


Weight of the World

by Skyleaf19



Series: The Weight of Both Worlds [1]
Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers, RWBY
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Changes to RWBY Canon, Gen, Mystery, Partial amnesia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-29
Updated: 2018-04-06
Packaged: 2019-02-23 16:01:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 22
Words: 102,482
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13193565
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Skyleaf19/pseuds/Skyleaf19
Summary: America and Canada awaken in a dangerous, monster-filled world. With strange new powers and suspicious blanks in their memories, they seek answers while keeping out of the spotlight. They can’t afford to interfere. Not when they need to get home. So they don’t. That is, until a city called Vale is breached by the Grimm and America’s hero complex kicks in.





	1. In the Rain

**Author's Note:**

> Just so you know, don’t expect romance except for the plot-required norm (aka Pyrrha likes Jaune, etc.). I can’t write romance and I’m not going to try. Expect family relationships and friendships abound. (Seriously, whenever I try to intentionally write a pairing it’s horrible. :P ) There will also be some major AU elements for RWBY in particular. You’ll see what I mean later.  
> Hope you enjoy!

The first thing he felt was cold.

As oblivion receded and consciousness crept back to the representation of the United States of America, an icy chill came with it. It seeped through his clothes and his skin like it was trying to encase his very bones in its freezing grasp. America shuddered and attempted to shrink away from the cold but it refused to secede, dripping over his body but focusing on his right side.

America gradually comprehended that he was lying in a major source of the coldness. He tried to open his eyes to see what it was but his eyelids felt too heavy and remained stubbornly shut. Giving up, the nation groaned and pushed himself up, resolving to at least get out of the thick, chilly substance he was sprawled in. He immediately regretted the movement when it caused hammers to pound against his skull. He opened his eyes and winced, the light that stabbed into his retinas only made more painful by the water that stung them.

No wonder he was wet. It was raining. Of course. America let his eyelids fall into their previous position and strained the muscles there in the hopes that doing so would stop his awful headache. The pain creeping up his forehead refused to cease and he gave a whine of complaint, shifting on the wet ground so he could lay on his side, one hand pressed against the area above his eyes

A soft, rasping sound startled him out of his misery and he looked around sharply, squinting through the heavy downpour that allowed for just enough light to make his throbbing eyes burn. His gaze rested on a familiar shape just to his right and his self-pity vanished in an instant, replaced by alarm.

“Canada!”

America scrambled to his feet and fell as fast as he rose, legs giving out from under him. Irritated by his shaking body’s incompetence, the nation brushed mud from his eyes and crawled over to Canada, rolling his limp frame onto his back. Beneath the mud and grime that covered his clothes and skin, Canada was ashen, the paleness of his skin accentuated by the dark shadows under his eyes. The northern nation looked sickly and almost frail, and if America were not mistaken his clothes seemed too large for his shivering frame.

For a single second the American wondered if his brother had shrunk but he dismissed that theory when he was checking Canada for a pulse and spotted his own emancipated hand. The blue-eyed nation swallowed and wiggled his fingers, taking in the slight boniness of his limb.

_What happened to us? Was there another economic crash? A natural disaster? An attack?_

Fearing for his people’s wellbeing, America searched within himself for his connection with them. It took longer than normal— like he was extremely far away— but eventually he found his citizens’ presences. Uneasiness twisted in his gut as he sensed them. It was only the normal amount of tension though so there was no need to worry. If there had been an attack or disaster, his people would be much more distressed.

America went deeper just to be certain and relaxed as their cheerfulness and hope washed over him. Things were normal. They were fine. America was perfectly —

Something inside him jolted like someone had grabbed hold of his insides and tugged. Panic washed over America, terror ripping through his chest, but before he could feel more the emotions vanished. The American returned to consciousness and found himself lying beside his brother, cold mud covering his cheek.

Wheezing harshly, he checked on his people again, only to find they were in the same emotional state they had been just minutes before. He concluded that the fear had not been from them. That meant it must have been from himself. America did not know why but he also did not like where that thought process was headed so he ended it, focusing on Canada once more.

The Canadian was breathing and his pulse was steady. He did not appear to be injured either, even on his head. He was just unconscious… for some reason.

America sat back on his heels and gave an exaggerated sigh. “Wonderful. Now I’ll have to carry you around until we find shelter. At least that means I get to be the hero!”

He puffed out his chest and ignored the sharp pain in his head. If Canada were conscious he would probably respond with a quiet, polite remark— or maybe a snide one considering their wet and cold situation— but he was not awake to sigh at America. He could not hear the American at all. But that was okay. America would talk to him anyway. It was either that or stand around in silence. Silence was not cool. Neither was rain. Stupid rain.

“Okay.” America said aloud. “I have no idea where we are right now. We definitely aren’t in my country or yours though. My people are…” He could not name the direction of his citizens and frowned. “…really far away.”

Now that he thought about it, that itself was weird. Normally he could tell exactly which way his country and people were, but now it was like they were nowhere _and_ everywhere. It felt like he was in his own borders yet everything felt distant and unfamiliar.

_It’s like I’m not on Earth_ , America thought. He chuckled and pushed the ridiculous thought away. “Last I remember we were at our hotel during the World Meeting in London.” He informed the unconscious Canada. “And now we’re here.” An idea struck him and he scowled. “Do you think England did some weird magic thingy and transported us somewhere? I bet he did!”

The Canadian remained unresponsive, unaware of everything from his brother’s voice to the rain trickling over his face. America forced his concern away with a tight smile and crouched next to Canada again.

“Are you awake yet, bro?” he asked hopefully.

Canada did not so much as twitch.

“Okay. You keep sleeping. And people call me lazy!” America released a shaky laugh. He wasn’t worried. Not at all.

He stood up and began pacing, scowling as the rain clung to his glasses. He took them off and rubbed them on his muddy shirt, glad he was not wearing his bomber jacket. Getting stains out of that again would be awful. In fact, the plain white t-shirt he wore looked more brown than white and was probably beyond saving. Canada was wearing a similar shirt. His had splotches of red among the brown. Now that America looked more closely, _his_ did too. Oh.

_Canada’s fine. I already checked him for wounds._

America kept pacing. “Okay. First thing we need to do is get out of this rain. No problem. Know that I’m totally going to mock you for having to be carried once we— _OW!_ ”

The American yelped as his foot hit a hard object. He tripped with the grace of a golden retriever puppy on ice and fell face-first into the mud. America lifted himself up, spitting out globs of dirt, and wiped at his face irritably.

“What the _Hell…?_ ”

Turning on the offending object, America picked it up and turned it over in his hands. It was fairly long and thin, about three and a half feet in length, and appeared to be made of blue-painted metal. The nation studied it curiously, running his hand along the object in an attempt to clear away the grime. The water helped in his efforts and soon he adjusted his grim, brightening in recognition.

“Cool! A bat!”

The American gave the baseball bat a few experimental swings, grinning foolishly. Even though it was heavier than the normal slugger he could wield it with ease. Baseball was the American pastime so of course he was amazing at it. Maybe he and Canada had gone out to play or something. Pleased with that explanation, America scanned the muddy ground for a ball. Instead he spotted another thin, long shape. He picked it up and pouted.

“Ugh. Now I get it.” Rolling his eyes, America placed the red hockey stick next to his brother. “So that’s what we were doing. Trying to beat each other at our best sport, huh? Well, I’ll let you know that baseball is a thousand times better than stupid hockey. Where’s the stupid ball…?”

Unable to find either a baseball or puck after a few minutes of searching, America huffed and picked up Canada and his hockey stick. “We’ll have to do a reign check on our games, dude. Its really pouring.”

As if the weather wanted to prove a point, a menacing rumble of thunder sounded in the distance. America grumbled under his breath and ran through the thick mud. “You really picked an awful day to go outside, bro. Seriously, I know it was your idea. Not mine. Nuh uh.” He cringed as sludge sank into his boots with every step. “Ew. That feels _gross_. I hope we find a town soon.”

A half-hour passed and they did not find a town. Instead America stumbled upon a forest and eventually a cave under the trees. Sending a silent thanks to whatever entities were out there, the American gently laid his brother down.

“I wish you had your coat so I could give you a pillow.” He muttered, eying the thin white shirt his brother was clothed in with distaste. “That won’t cushion your head at all.” He straightened his back and looked at the dreary weather outside. “So what are the chances that I can find dry wood?”

Canada said nothing.

“Damn it.” America whispered, dragging his fingers through his hair. “You’re the one who’s supposed to be fretting over me when I do something stupid and get hurt, not the other way around.”

The northern nation did not stir to defend himself.

America shook his head angrily, pretending that there was not ice settling in his stomach, and walked back outside into the rain. He wouldn’t go far— not when the other nation was so helpless— but he couldn’t wait around either. He had to get wood to warm himself and Canada up.

Nations could not die to something like hypothermia but extended exposure to things that were bad for the health could put even the healthiest personification into a coma. It was almost like that was their substitute for dying while their countries still stood. Some woke up, others didn’t. Either way, America was not about to let Canada face something like that.

The American picked up a few pathetically wet sticks and threw them away in disgust. They wouldn’t light even if he could start fires with his mind. He scanned the area, squinting through the ever-present rain, and focused on a cracked branch that came level with his chest. Even in the gloom caused by the grey skies he could tell the branch was dead. It looked thick enough that it might not be wet throughout as well.

_It’s a start_ , America thought optimistically. _Now, how to get it…_

He considered ripping it off with his bare hands but acknowledged that method would more likely have him uproot the entire tree in the process. He _would_ take the whole tree if he had something to chop it up with so he supposed finding smaller logs was a better course of action.

America studied the branch and hefted his metal bat thoughtfully. It didn’t feel cheap and it certainly was not a light material, so maybe it could help him. Plus smacking trees to pieces sounded kind of fun. It was better than methodically working in the rain and cold and worrying about why his brother was unconscious.

America closed his eyes and imagined he was in a stadium of adoring fans. The sun was shining, it was nicely warm, and everyone was waiting for the final homerun that would result in his country winning the World Baseball Classic.

“Batter up!” America crowed, giving a sharp swing.

The bat slammed into something that was definitely not wood, resulting in a meaty thud. America opened his eyes and watched in horror as a dog-like shape went flying, back, smacking into a tree.

The nation gave a heartbroken wail. “Doggie, _no!_ ”

He ran to the poor canine’s side, reaching out to console the innocent animal he had ruthlessly attacked. A red eye stared at him blankly before the wolf faded into ashes, dissolving before America’s stunned eyes. The nation gave another shriek— this time filled with terror.

“What the Hell? Where did its body go?!” he yelped.

The hair on his nape rose and he turned, a chill washing through him.

Three more wolves stood before America, snarling with hackles raised. But unlike the first wolf, they could not be mistaken for dogs. Their eyes were red as blood and glowed demonically, surrounded by what appeared to be bone masks. They were also too large to be mundane wolves, not to mention they stood on their hind legs. America’s every instinct told him that these were not normal animals. They were not innocent. They were demonic monsters.

_Enemies._

America’s eyes narrowed. He flicked the bat so it was upright in both hands and swung, decapitating the first wolf that dove for him. He stepped to the side, avoiding the second wolf’s pounce and hit it in the back of the head, sending it sprawling into the mud. A third wolf swiped at him with a large, clawed hand and he raced backwards, sliding slightly in the mud. He hit the wolf beneath the jaw, snapping its neck, and it collapsed, dissolving.

America barely had time to celebrate his victory before he heard more growls. He squinted through his water-covered glasses, meeting dozens of glowing red eyes. A quick turn of his head showed he was surrounded by black wolves.

_Great._ _It’s like Little Red Riding Hood: Apocalypse Version out here! Did some mad scientist finally create weaponized demon-rabies for dogs?! I bet Russia did it. Or England. Or some crackpot in a basement somewhere. They always mess with stupid stuff like this!_

The monsters swarmed him. Trusting instincts from years of war and training, America swung his bat in a large arc, taking out a good chunk of them in a single blow. When the stragglers hesitated he did not wait for them, charging head on like a berserker falling in their midst. The smaller ones fell easily, unable to withstand his strength while the bigger wolves proved to be more of a challenge.

As a bone-covered wolf drew the ire of his bat, another one managed to grab him by his wielding wrist, lifting him off the ground and roaring in his face. Rather than feeling the icy rush of fear, America glared coldly at the Grimm. He kicked it in the crook of its leg, snapping the bone and making it howl. He grabbed the Beowolf’s arm after it dropped him, hoisting it upward with ease, and slammed it into the ground.

Teeth bared in a grin, America raised his bat above his head and twisted the handle as he stabbed down. A blade extended from the tip of the bat, impaling the wolf through the throat. America ripped the weapon free, barely taking a millisecond to stare at the dagger-like addition in bewilderment.

“That’s so _cool_.” He muttered, and ran at another Grimm.

He slid beneath its strike and stabbed it in the throat, jabbing his bat back and smacking the Beowolf behind him in the eye. He spun to face his reeling foe, slashing it in half and pursued the remainders with an elated shout. The Beowolves slashed at him, roared at him, hit him, but it seemed like none of their blows mattered. America swore that a few of their strikes connected but he felt neither pain nor the warm stickiness of blood on his skin. The thought made America’s joyful smile widen.

_That’s right. You can’t kill me, bastards._

As if they heard his thoughts, the Grimm rushed past him, retreating in droves. America may have believed they were fleeing in terror if not for the direction they were headed.

_You’re **dead**._

To say America tore through the Beowolves would be an understatement. The Grimm that stood between him and Canada might as well have not existed; he passed through them so unflinchingly. He reached the cave before the first creature could step foot inside it, brutally slashing it in half before it could even sniff his brother. The other Grimm paused, hesitating a hundred yards from the cave. America could feel their glowing red eyes on him.

Turning back outside with a flourish, America stood boldly between Canada and the Grimm, rage radiating off him in waves.

“Back off.” he snarled.

The Beowolves lunged.

America let his instincts take over and twisted the section of bat again, pushing it counter-clockwise. The bat collapsed in his hand, bending as it changed shape, and he felt a trigger beneath his fingers. He raised the barrel of his bat-turned-gun, aimed, and fired. The bullet hit the closest Beowolf right in the center of its forehead. America jerked the shotgun, forcing the next bullet into the chamber, aimed, and fired, taking out two more.

It was then that the leaders in their charge got close, swiping at the nation. America jumped out of the way, twisting clockwise, and slammed his reformed bat into the Beowolf’s head. Another turn of the mechanism and he sliced through a Grimm’s arm, making black smoke waft into the air.

It was even easier dealing with the Beowolves from the cave, the thin entrance much easier to defend than the dark, rainy area outside. Or perhaps it was the fact that he was protecting someone that made America fight so effectively, mowing down his foes in droves until only a few more remained.

The Grimm hesitated as though they were debating whether to continue their assault or not, and a few backed away, fleeing. Two decided America’s death would be worth it, however, and stood just out of range of his bat, snarling. The nation thought about simply shooting them but dismissed the idea, instead waving his bat mockingly.

“Come and get it!”

The first Beowolf sprang at him, claws outstretched. America sidestepped, avoiding its attack, and hit it hard enough that it exploded into smoke in midair. He smirked and turned to his final foe… only to step oddly on a protruding rock on the floor of the cave. His foot slipped, ankle twisting at an odd angle, and America swayed, caught off balance.

_Shi—!_

The Beowolf tackled him, pinning him to the ground with his weapon uselessly pressed between their bodies. The American struggled, trying to get his other arm free from behind his back, but it was like the Grimm knew about and could counteract his strength, keeping him trapped like a caught rabbit. The Beowolf held him down for a moment, testing if he could break free, and when he failed to it howled in triumph and lunged for his throat with teeth bared.

A gunshot hit the Grimm in its ugly mug, leaving a gaping hole in its skull. It slumped off of America and to the ground, dissolving into black smoke that was visible even in the rain. America turned to Canada, who was holding what appeared to be a sniper rifle, scope and all. His pounding heartbeat slowed to a steadier rate and he nodded in thanks.

_Note to self: Don’t get cocky._

After a cautious scan showed the area was clear of glowing crimson eyes, the American raced to his brother’s side, practically vibrating in excitement.

“Bro! Is that your hockey stick? So cool! My bat’s a gun too. _And_ a sword! Look!” America told him excitedly, waving the weapon in his brother’s face.

Canada grimaced and pushed the slugger aside with his hockey stick. “I saw. Though I think that’s actually a club and bayonet.”

Was it America’s imagination or was his brother’s voice even fainter than usual?

The American laughed his worry away. “Okay, I agree with the bayonet but it’s _definitely_ a baseball bat. It’s like a weapon from my dreams and it’s _awesome._ See?”

He wagged the bayonet in his brother’s face once more. Again, Canada pushed it to a safer distance, not keen on getting stabbed in the eye. America noted the stiffness of the movement and did not tease his brother for his caution, instead furrowing his brow.

“You okay?”

Canada twitched as though startled by the question. “I’m uninjured. Just a little tired. It’s… I feel like I’m recovering from an attack on my nation. It’ll pass.”

As he spoke his voice grew stronger but that did not lessen America’s unease. If Canada was admitting that he did not feel well, he _really_ felt off. Nations may be cautious about sharing their status with others, but they would with allies when it proved necessary. There were few things more aggravating and alarming than to have a nation collapse at random, which America knew full well from being on both sides of that type of incident.

Canada would not mention it unless he felt it might affect his physical performance and that was more than a little concerning. A part of America wanted to grill his brother for more details but the stubborn line of Canada’s jaw told him the demands would be met with mulish— and polite— resistance.

“Well, you missed out on an awesome fight when you were asleep.” The American said instead. “A horde of those monsters attacked me when I went to get wood. I fought them all off though. It was super easy.” He began to reenact the battle— complete with sound effects— by swinging his bat wildly. “First I decapitated one like _whack!_ Then I smacked another one like _kapow!_ And then a third Beowolf tried to slash me but I—”

“‘Beowolf’?” Canada questioned, violet eyes brightening in comprehension. “Oh, you mean the wolf Grimm?” He froze, an odd expression crossing his face.

America nodded happily. “Yeah. That’s what they’re call…” He trailed off.

Canada mirrored his befuddled expression. “How did you know that? How did _I_ know that?”

“I… uh…” He hesitated before grinning widely. “We’re the heroes! The heroes always know this stuff. Especially me since I’m the boss-hero.”

Canada smiled thinly. “Does the ‘boss-hero’ know where the closest civilization is?”

America pretended not to notice the dryness of his tone. “Yeah. It’s that way.” He pointed confidently to their left. “Why? Do you need a hospital?”

“No. Of course not.” Canada said firmly. “I just don’t want to stay in a cave. And it’s stopped raining so we can leave.”

America looked outside and noted his brother was right. The rain had stopped and small beams of sunlight were breaking through the clouds.

“Cool. Civilization, here we come!” He strolled out of the cave but immediately came back. “Want me to carry you?”

“That would be appreciated. Thank you.” Canada said.

America watched his brother expertly transform the rifle back into a hockey-stick form and put it in its holster. He noticed a convenient strap on his own back— how did he miss that earlier?— and put his weapon away as well.

Canada eyed the bat warily. “Is that going to fire in my face?”

“Nah. It was made better than that.” America said dismissively.

Violet eyes studied him. “ _Who_ made it? _When?_ ”

“…Haven’t the slightest clue.” America crouched. “Come on.”

Canada climbed onto his back, hooking his arms around America’s shoulders. The blue-eyed nation stood carefully and began walking in the direction of the village. A heavy silence fell over the two brothers and America considered breaking it to ward off the questions that crept into his mind. But Canada was resting his head on his shoulder like he had a headache, and he didn’t want to disturb him.

His resolve was quick to crumble, only lasting a few peaceful minutes.

“So… Do you know how we got here or what country we’re in?” America asked.

“No idea.” His brother mumbled. “The last thing I remember is being at the hotel after the meeting.”

America sighed. “Same. I don’t remember going out either.”

Canada shot him a sharp look. “Why do you believe we left the hotel?”

“Well, we had these with us.” America said, pointing at the baseball bat and hockey stick. “I thought we might have gone to play a game.”

“These aren’t for sports. They’re weapons.” His brother said pointedly.

“I guess.” America mumbled, humming. “It _would_ be pretty awesome to play sports with these though.”

“More like deadly.” Canada muttered.

America snorted. “Like that bloodbath you call hockey isn’t already deadly.”

“We don’t use weapons!” the Canadian protested.

“No, you just try to bludgeon your enemies to death with hockey sticks.” America said, only half-teasing.

Canada did not respond to the jab. “I can walk now.”

America delayed in granting his implied request to be released, wondering if he had upset his brother. He hoped not. Canada had this habit of gaining puppy-dog eyes if America upset him, making the southern nation feel all guilty. Then _he_ would get blue sad-puppy eyes, thus making Canada feel guilty in turn, and they’d be stuck in a cycle until America burst out laughing from the ridiculousness of it.

“I’m not mad at you.” Canada clarified like he could read his mind. “I really can walk now. I feel better.”

Indeed, some of the color had returned to his skin, making him look much less ready to keel over at any minute. America reluctantly let his brother off his back, hands hovering in case he fell. Canada kept his footing and brushed his hair out of his face. He looked at his legs, then at America, and raised an eyebrow.

“Why are we wearing the same thing?”

America took in their muddy appearances, struggling to see the resemblance. Eventually he spotted the clothes beneath the muck, spotting similar white shirts and cargo pants. “Maybe we wanted to pull the old identical-twin-switch gag? Who cares? I don’t think our outfits are important right now, bro.”

Canada’s violet gaze darkened. “ _No._ It _is_ important! Something’s wrong. Something’s _missing_. _Memories_ are missing. I know you feel it, too!”

America took a step back as the Canadian began to shake with frustrated rage.

“We woke up in the middle of the woods. I can still feel my people but the connection feels wrong. We’ve both lost weight, we’re in weird clothes, and we have weird weapons like I’ve never seen before. We knew how to _use_ those weapons. We knew what those creatures were and how to fight them efficiently. How? Why? _What happened to us?_ ”

Unease stirred in America’s chest as his brother put his vague fears into words. “I don’t know.” he said honestly. “I’m sure we’ll figure it out. Don’t stress about it, dude. You haven’t even been up for an hour.”

Canada looked torn between glaring at him and staring vacantly into the distance in shock. He settled for putting his head in his hands. “I know. I just don’t like this.” He paused like he was weighing his words, then continued speaking. “You’ve seen movies. When has someone waking up in a situation like this ever ended well?”

“You mean waking up with partial amnesia and demonic monsters everywhere?” America questioned. “We’ll be fine, dude. The hero always survives apocalypses like this and civilization seems to be okay so the world isn't going to end any time soon. Now come on. The town is over here.”

He grabbed his brother’s arm and started dragging him through the woods. Canada let himself be led, though not without a small, amused snort.

“How would you know that…?”

He stopped speaking when they came over the hill. Before them was a small town, tiny when compared to most in their respective countries but still large enough to be commendable. But that was not what made both brothers pause, uncertainty overcoming the confidence they once exuded. America was quick to overcome his surprise and released an excited gasp, while Canada continued to stare at the obvious, out-of-place object that caught their attention.

“…Is that an airship or some kind?” Canada whispered.

“I think it is.” America breathed, eyes shining. “Can we ride it?”

“ _No._ ” his brother said sharply. “We need to figure out some things first. Besides, we probably need money to get a ticket. Native money.”

The realization that had been creeping up on America dawned on him then and his good mood faded. The tiny pieces came together to form a disjointed, if decipherable picture, one which made his stomach sink into his shoes. The strange weapons. The unfamiliar landscapes. The distant and distorted connection with their people. The airships. The odd architecture. The Grimm.

“Hey, Canada…” America gave his brother a small, strained grin. “I don’t think we’re in Kansas anymore. Or on Earth.”


	2. A Brave New World

The logical course of action would be to turn around and retreat back into the woods right then and there. That way they could observe the city, come up with a plan, and get a feel as to whether they would be welcomed by the locals or chased out at best, attacked at worst.

It was a good plan. A solid plan.

Too bad Canada spent too long staring in confusion and his brother decided walking into the open was a good idea. Canada moved as soon as America strode casually out of cover, grabbing him by the arm and dragging him back beneath the trees.

“What are you doing?” he hissed.

“Going into town.” The American said obliviously. “You said you wanted to find one.”

“That was before we realized we might not be on Earth! We’re on a _different world_ , America.”

“Not that different.” The blue-eyed nation commented. “There’s people— _human_ -people. See?”

Canada followed his pointed finger and saw he was right. The thought that the city might be filled with nonhumans had not crossed his mind— which it honestly should have considering America’s alien friend, Tony— but his brother’s comment proved how skewed his comprehension might be.

“I know that. But that doesn’t mean we’ll be welcome there. We know _nothing_ about this world or its inhabitants. For all we know they could be in the middle of a war or be under some type of dystopian government or see us as spies or invaders or freaks—”

“No way.” America said dismissively. “They have _airships_ and a pretty good functioning city. They’re not going to arrest or try to kill us on sight. If anything I’ll bet they’re more worried about fighting the Grimm than each other. Besides—” he brightened. “— we’ll never figure out what’s going on here if we don’t ask questions. So let’s go talk to some people!”

“Let’s not.” Canada said hurriedly as he blocked his brother’s path. “We can’t just waltz in there. We need a plan.”

“Act casual, get some money, find some food and a place to stay.” America said rapidly. “Easy. Can we go in now?” His blue eyes focused on the large shape of one of the airships parked in the village but Canada still held America back.

“I’m not really sure if we should.” Canada cautioned. “There’s probably a bunch of things that are common knowledge that we won’t know.”

America shot him a playful grin that had a worryingly strained edge. “Like how those wolf Grimm are called Beowolves— and that they’re called Grimm?”

“…Point taken.” Canada murmured. “I just don’t want to rush into things. I can’t shake the feeling that we need to be wary.”

America stopped straining in his hold and looked at his violet-eyed brother. His expression remained bright and impatient, but the Canadian could see the slight shift in his gaze, blue eyes boring into his. America may pretend otherwise, but he _was_ capable of reading the atmosphere, and Canada could tell his brother was spotting the uneasiness that twisted his gut. It made him a little more uncomfortable, but he would accept America’s scrutiny if that made him willing to listen to his words of caution.

The blue-eyed nation pulled free of Canada’s grasp and crossed his arms. “Okay. What do we need to do first?”

Canada felt some of the tension in his chest ease. “We just need to go over a few things. Like if we’ll be attacked for openly carrying weapons.”

America instantly turned to study the villagers. “That guy’s openly carrying a knife and a gun. No one’s giving him a second glance.”

Canada nodded in acceptance. “Can you read any of the store signs?”

“Yeah. I swear they’re in English.” America said after a pause. He blinked and turned to his brother. “Shouldn’t you be doing this yourself? Your eyesight is as good as mine. I know these are just to look cool. We don’t actually need them.” He adjusted his glasses pointedly.

Canada avoided his intense blue gaze.

America made a small, angry sound. “You’re still not at a hundred percent.”

“I’m almost there.” Canada promised. “I’m still a little woozy, that’s all.”

He did not tell his brother about the tiredness he felt, one he knew had nothing to do with a lack of food or rest. It was his bond with his people that was strained, the distance between them uncomfortable and unsettling. Sometimes it felt like they were to his north, like he was in America’s country rather than his own, other times it felt like they were too far away to reach. Canada wished to ask his southern twin if he felt the same way but did not want him worrying if the answer was ‘no’. Instead he moved on.

“Do any of the signs have people’s names?”

“Umm…” America squinted at the buildings he could spot. “There’s a library, a hospital, a place called ‘Steel’s Weapon Repair’... Oh! And a coffee shop! They have coffee!”

“Good. You can get your caffeine fix there.” Canada said, amused. “What’s it called?”

“Bruno’s Baked Goods and Coffee. And _my_ caffeine fix? _You’re_ the one who can’t function without coffee!” America said.

Canada pretended not to hear him.

America rolled his eyes. “Anyway, Bruno sounds like a normal name to me.”

Canada mulled it over. “I think we should use different names then. ‘America’ and ‘Canada’ might not mean anything here but they’re still strange. We don’t want to attract any unwanted attention.”

America thought about his words. “So… human names it is then.” He adjusted his glasses. “Alfred F. Jones at your service. And this is my dearest twin brother, Matthew Williams. Why do we have different last names? We have a complicated family history. Don’t ask.”

His tone maintained that teasing, excited edge throughout the entire exchange. Canada would have rolled his eyes at his brother’s antics if he were not so used to them. Besides, he suspected the alternative to his enthusiastic joking would be running directly into the center of town. He was stunned America had managed to keep his obvious desire to inspect the airship up close under wraps for so long. Canada would take advantage of the reprieve when he had it.

“I’m surprised you remembered my human name.” he commented. “Even Kumachiko forgets.”

America paused, opened his mouth as if to comment, changed his mind, and shut it. He shrugged. “Meh. It’s not that hard. But if we slip up we can pass our real names off as weird nicknames.” He stepped forward and leaned close to Canada, blue eyes wide and hopeful. “Can we go _now?_ ”

Canada gently shoved his brother and his pleading puppy-dog eyes away. “Not until you promise me you won’t make a scene. Even if— _Especially_ if something happens. We need to be careful, and we need to blend in. No heroics.”

America looked at the sky, humming vaguely.

Canada’s violet eyes narrowed. “ _America._ ”

His brother raised his hands defensively. “Fine, fine. I’ll lay low and won’t play the hero. Probably.” He muttered the last word under his breath before smirking. “Shouldn’t you be calling me ‘Alfred’, Mattie?”

“Sorry, _Alfred_.” Canada groaned. “Let’s just go already.”

They walked towards the walled town. Upon spotting the two guards stationed at the entrance, Canada tensed, fully prepared to be chased off. He could not shake the mistrust of these people any more than he could recall why he felt uneasy around them. It was like he was… not in enemy territory, but not allied either, where one wrong move would make the people turn on him.

His misgivings were not alleviated in the slightest when the humans spotted the brothers.

“Halt! State your business!” the guard on the right bellowed.

A weapon was leveled at the twins. America and Canada instantly froze, putting their hands up. Before the northern nation send his brother a look that said ‘I told you so’, the other guard put his hand on his companion’s gun, making it point at the ground.

“Whoa. _Relax_. They’re just kids.” He said. The blond-haired man turned to the two, who had not moved closer. “Sorry about that. My friend here is a little jumpy.” He gave a kind smile.

America instantly relaxed and returned the grin, lowering his arms. Canada did the same but continued to watch the men, his suspicion overcoming his instinctive politeness. America trusted too easily so he would have to be the wary one. Said wariness resulted in him remaining silent. Luckily his brother took the initiative.

“No worries. You’re just doing your jobs.” The blue-eyed nation said easily. “Our business? Um… we just want food and sleep.”

His voice gained a strained, shaky edge and Canada had to wonder if it was intentional. America could be a good actor if he wanted to be, which was expected from the nation that was home to places like Hollywood. A low growling sound decreased the probability of any subterfuge, however, and America smiled sheepishly as the kinder man chuckled.

“So I see.” His brow furrowed as he studied them more closely. “Are you two all right? You look like you’ve been through hell. And you were out in that freak snowstorm too…”

America looked down at his muddy clothes and gave a nervous laugh. “W-Well, you could say that…”

He trailed off, eyes glazing slightly. Canada wondered what he was thinking about. Was his brother thinking about where they had awoken? Or was he trying to push past the strange blankness in his mind like Canada had, trying to retrieve the memories he knew were there but could not reach—

The dark-haired guard’s gaze grew sharp. “Did the Grimm attack your village?”

“We don’t know.” Canada said honestly. “We just woke up in the woods near here. We don’t remember leaving. We just remember—” _Panic. Desperation. Fleeing. Get away. Get away. Have to get a—_ Canada twitched. “—running.”

The two men exchanged a solemn glance.

The guard on the right cleared his throat. “Are you headed to Vale, then?”

Canada’s mind blanked, a sharp pain radiating from behind his eyes. Vale. That was a city. But it was also a country. Maybe the capital of the country? Or was it? He knew this. He _knew_ that he knew—

“That’s the plan.” Alfred interjected. “We’re hoping for a fresh start.” He looked at the ground and fiddled with his baseball bat, an action the blond-haired guard noticed.

“Are you two Huntsmen-in-training?” he asked.

“Not officially yet.” America chirped. “But we will be. I’m going to be a hero!”

The man chuckled. “Good for you, kid.”

Canada wondered how old the men thought they were. Their reactions suggested younger than the twins’ physical nineteen years but he was not about to complain. These people would be less suspicious of teens than adults and the less these people suspected them, the better.

Something rustled behind the twins and all four males tensed, reaching for their weapons. Nothing leapt from the foliage to attack them and the guards were quick to calm. Canada was not so easily pacified, instead ready for anything to break free from the foliage and try to tear them apart—

“How about you go inside?” The blond-haired guard suggested.

America immediately stepped forward but Canada hesitated. The man noticed.

“You’ll be safe here.” He promised. “The Grimm haven’t been able to get in before, and they certainly won’t now.”

His smile remained in place but his shoulders were tense. Perhaps he was not as relaxed as Canada first assumed. The violet-eyed nation allowed himself to be ushered inside the gate along with America, watching as the iron bars were locked behind them. He breathed a sigh of relief, happy to be away from the woods— and soon to be away from the guards— but his comfort was dashed as his brother spoke again.

“The Grimm have been attacking here too?” America questioned.

The blond-haired guard exchanged a glance with his partner and nodded, pursing his lips. “I’m afraid so. A pack of Beowolves settled in the woods a few weeks ago. They’ve been getting bolder, assaulting the towns in the area and picking off travelers. But you don’t have to worry.” He added the last sentence hurriedly. “We’ve called a team of Huntsmen to take care of them. They were supposed to show up a couple days ago but apparently clearing out the other areas is taking longer than expected. Last I heard they should be arriving within a couple days.”

“That’s good to hear.” Canada commented.

America shifted his weight, eyes on his brother. Canada refused to look at him, knowing what he would see if he did. The northern nation instead glared at a building in front of him, wishing that the myths about twins were true so he could send his twin the message _No. Don’t you dare. Not a single word—_

“Maybe _we_ can take out the Grimm.” America suggested.

Three pairs of eyes landed on him, one curious, one doubtful, and one exasperated.

The dark-haired guard shook his head. “How about no.”

His partner put his hand on his shoulder, sending the other a warning glare. “What my friend meant to say is that’s unnecessary. The Huntsmen will be here soon. You don’t need to go risking yourselves. The packs are pretty large, and you two look like you need rest, not a fight. Let the Huntsmen handle it. It’s their job.”

“But we already got a bunch o—” America began but Canada silenced him with an elbow to the ribs.

“Okay. We’ll leave it to the professionals.” He promised.

The blond-haired guard smiled. “Good. Do you need help finding a place to stay?”

“We don’t have any Lien to pay for an inn. Or food.” America said. He faltered, realizing his slip-up. “Er… I mean…”

Canada had to refrain from face-palming.

“Here.”

Both twins blinked at the colored currency the dark-haired guard dropped into America’s palms. They stared at the Lien then looked at the man’s face, expressions of surprise almost identical. The guard cleared his throat and looked away.

“That should be enough to get you started.”

America beamed, face lighting up. “Thanks, dude! We’ll pay you back.”

“Don’t worry about it.” The guard grunted. “Just don’t cause trouble— or go looking for it.”

Canada wondered how he knew America so well. The blue-eyed nation was indeed looking back at the forest, face aglow with the thought of hunting down the monsters plaguing this town and being a hero. Just to make sure his brother did not run off, Canada grabbed his arm.

“Thank you for your help. We’ll be going now.” He said firmly, shooting his brother a flat look.

America pouted and the two men chuckled.

“Good luck getting into Beacon.” The blond-haired guard said warmly.

They went their separate ways, ignoring America’s unhappy muttering. Canada kept his grip on his brother, not trusting him to refrain from running off.

“What was that?” he heard the blond-haired guard murmur behind them. “You gave them more than enough for a room— and airship tickets! _Plus_ some! You’re usually not one to care about strays.”

Canada felt a burst of irritation at being called a ‘stray’ but the dark-haired man’s next words snuffed out his indignation.

“I don’t know. Helping them just felt like the right thing to do.”

He heard the blond-haired guard chuckle. “Softie.”

“Shut up!” his partner snapped.

“ _Matttiiiieeee._ Why can’t we go hunt the Beowolves?” America asked, returning Canada’s attention to his brother.

“Because it’s not our business and we’re trying to stay unnoticed. Let the Huntsmen and Huntresses do it.” The violet-eyed nation said.

“But what if they get in before the Huntsmen get here?” America protested. “People might get hurt.”

Canada’s stomach twisted at the thought but he forced his concern away. “You heard the guard. They won’t be able to get inside the town.”

“There could be a lot of them though.” America argued. “What if they can’t handle it and one slips by?”

“I’m certain it won’t be a problem. Beowolves tend to move in packs but they’re usually not too difficult to…” Canada frowned. “Am— Alfred, you don’t think those Beowolves you killed were—?”

The blue-eyed nation shook his head. “Nah. That pack was no problem. Surely they wouldn’t need a whole team of Huntsmen if that was all the Grimm.”

“They might not have anyone with an unlocked Aura.” Canada pointed out.

America paused. “That’s true…” He adopted a hopeful look. “Are you sure we can’t check?”

Canada sighed. “Yes, I’m sure.”

Seeing his brother would not be swayed, the blue-eyed nation wilted. “Fine. So we’re in town. Now what?”

His brother looked around at the many buildings that were just alien enough to not be home. “Let’s try to find a public bathroom or inn. And maybe a shower. After we’re cleaned up we’ll buy necessities and—”

“Take an airship to Vale?” America interjected.

Canada raised an eyebrow at him. “Since when were we going to Vale?”

The blue-eyed nation shrugged. “Since now. It’s the capital and if there’s any place that might give us some answers about what happened to us, it’s there.”

Canada opened his mouth to argue but paused. It was true that a major city like Vale had more of a chance of having information about things like being randomly transported to another world than small villages. Vale was also less dangerous than places like Mistral or Atlas. Mistral had a dangerous lower class that would turn on them in an instant if they got paid enough and Atlas…

Canada’s skin crawled and he withheld a shudder. “Okay. We’ll travel to Vale. But I don’t think an airship will work. What if they require identification or papers?”

America grimaced. “W-Well, maybe we have papers…” He patted at the pockets of his muddy pants.

Canada shook his head slowly, rubbing at his forehead. “Great. Doing anything without IDs is going to be near impossible. We won’t be able to travel, or buy Dust rounds, or get jobs, and everyone is going to be suspicious of us—”

His mouth fell open as America pulled a small card and a couple papers out of the pocket on his thigh. He looked at it and gave a small whoop.

“I have one!” He squinted at the card. “It has my human name and everything. Do you know what year it is here?”

“No idea.” Canada said faintly as he searched his own pockets.

America made a face. “Cause I don’t know how old this says I am. It says July fourth but the year is weird.”

Canada felt a smooth card and some papers in his right calf pocket and pulled it out. His own face stared back at him, accompanied by hopefully all the information required to appear to be a normal citizen. His gaze flicked to the birth date and he smiled.

“According to this I’m three days older than you.”

“No!” America gasped like Canada had just told him Christmas was cancelled. He grabbed his brother’s ID, shocked expression becoming an unhappy glare. “That’s so not cool.”

“I think it is, _little_ brother.” The violet-eyed nation said smugly. A thought struck him and he frowned. “Though that makes us being twins problematic…”

“Mom was in labor for a long time. My birth was difficult.” America said, voice noticeably flat.

It was almost eerie how he could come up with a story on the fly. Unsure of how else to respond, Canada nodded. “That could work. And…” He looked over the papers and grimaced. “…It looks like we might be able to ride an airship.”

The representation of the United States of America squeed. There was no other way to describe the joyful, high-pitched sound that came from the blue-eyed nation. He hugged his brother, squeezing the air from his lungs.

“Yes! Thank you thank you thank you!”

Canada patted America’s arm weakly. “Can’t— breathe—”

America sheepishly let him go. “Sorry. So shower, food, then airship?”

His excitement was contagious and Canada found himself smiling. “Shower, food, airship ticket, then sleep. There probably aren’t any more flights today. We’ll leave tomorrow.”

“Sounds good.” America agreed, agreeable now that he was indeed going to be able to ride an airship.

Canada looked down at their grime-covered clothes and grimaced. “On second thought, shower, clothes, then food. I don’t think these can be saved.”

“That’s a good idea.” America acknowledged. “Ugh. I feel like I took a mud bath.”

His brother grinned mischievously and planted his hand on Canada’s head, turning his already dirty locks a darker shade of brown. The violet-eyed nation gave an unmanly yelp and dodged away from America, glaring.

The blue-eyed twin sniggered. “There was a clean spot. I had to get it.” He said innocently.

Canada brushed muddy hair out of his face and growled low in his throat. “I hate you.”

“Love you too, bro.” America chirped. “Hopefully they even let us into the inn to clean up.”

Luckily the owner did not seem to mind the mess, instead smiling behind her hand as she gave them a room key. Canada mused about whether she was used to Huntsmen returning from missions with more mud than a swamp but was just grateful for the warm shower.

The brothers took turns cleaning up and getting as much grime from their clothes as possible before heading out once more seeking new clothing. It felt gross to have to put the old stuff back on but they did not have another choice. Soon enough they found suitable replacements— though Canada had to stop his brother from spending their money wastefully.

“You don’t need that.” The violet-eyed nation said flatly.

“But it’s adorable!” America said, already having put the bright orange hat on his head. “Look! There’s a little grey bunny on it!”

He pointed at the animal for emphasis, but Canada ignored him, tearing the hat from his head and putting it back on the shelf.

“We’re here for necessities. You don’t need a bunny hat. We need enough money for the airship tickets, remember?”

America sighed and looked at the hat longingly. “Fine.” His blue eyes landed on something and he grinned. “Well, we need a wallet for our money, right?”

He casually picked up one with a familiar rabbit on the front and handed it to Canada. The northern nation sighed loudly but— upon seeing it was on clearance— added it to the pile.

America beamed. “Do you have everything then?”

His twin looked through the small pile of clothes they had gathered. “I think so.”

They bought the clothes and went to the bathroom to change, with no one batting an eye at their actions or weapons. Maybe they really wouldn’t stand out here. America happily threw the ruined cargo pants and t-shirt in the trash.

“Bye bye, mud! I hope to never experience _that_ again. It was sticking to my skin. Like _glue_.” He shuddered, then fiddled with the sleeves of his hooded black jacket and looked down at the newly-bought plain blue t-shirt with a frown. “Too bad this didn’t have a bunny.” He said unsubtly.

“The rabbit shirt was expensive. As was the hat. And the sweatpants you wanted. It looked like a mascot or something.” Canada muttered, adjusting the strings of his red hoodie so they were even. The action caused the hood to pull inward and he grumbled lowly.

America chuckled. “Here, let me.”

Canada kept the strings the same length while his brother pulled the hood out again. “Thanks.”

“No problem.” He looked his northern twin up and down. “I still don’t get why you didn’t get a zipper hoodie. What if you get hot?”

“Then I’ll take it off over my head. I have a t-shirt under here you know. You just saw me buy it.” Canada said blandly.

America tipped his head, eyes narrowing. “Dude, I know you can’t handle heat as well as me. You’re going to be stuck taking that off every two seconds.”

The violet-eyed nation’s confusion lessened and his gaze softened. “I’ll be fine. Don’t worry about it.”

The subtle concern for his wellbeing was heartwarming but unnecessary. The weather was a little warm, but Canada had wanted something to cover himself with. He was much less susceptible to the cold than his brother, but in return was more likely to get overheated. The opposite was the case for America, who loved the heat and shivered in the cold.

“Alrighty then. Next is food?” America questioned.

“Next is food.” Canada agreed.

“Finally!” his twin cheered. “I hope they have hamburgers.”

“I thought you wanted coffee?” Canada asked, amused.

“Coffee can wait. I need a hamburger.” America said. “Hopefully they have pancakes and maple syrup for you.”

“Even if they do, it won’t be Canadian.” The violet-eyed nation said wistfully. “And I don’t have my stash on me.”

Almost too quick to notice, his brother’s smile vanished. It was back in an instant, making Canada question if it had ever been gone in the first place. “Not to worry, bro. I’m sure it’ll taste good. Now let’s go eat. I’m starving!”

Canada let himself be dragged to the diner across the street.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apparently the longest time between twins being born was 87 days. I don’t know how reliable the sources are… but whoa. And here I was worrying that three days would be unrealistic (which is why I looked it up in the first place…) O_O’


	3. Welcome to Vale

America pressed his nose against the window of the airship, causing his breath to fog up the glass. The day was perfect for flying without a cloud in the sky to block the view. Far below he could make out the land, red and green trees surrounding them like an exotic ocean and the shimmering reflection of actual water in the distance.

When they first got onto the airship, the blue-eyed nation had wanted to go see how it worked but Canada would not let him take a step towards the cockpit, instead distracting him with the view for the duration of the trip. It worked but America noticed his subterfuge, and got his revenge by cheerfully pointing out everything he saw and keeping his brother from taking a nap.

“I can see the ocean from here, Mattie!” he said with loudly enhanced excitement.

Canada gave a low grumble of response, bonking the back of his head on the wall as he nearly nodded off. Again. America _would_ let him sleep but knew his twin had rested peacefully all night, either because or in spite of their situation. That gave him permission to bug the hell out of his sibling, and he had no intention of stopping.

“Isn’t it pretty?” he emphasized, nudging his brother.

Canada swatted him irritably and looked outside. “I suppose.”

His brother glanced around for the thousandth time that trip, blatantly uncomfortable. Which was reason number two as to why America was purposely being a nuisance. It would be an understatement to say that Canada was acting twitchy and unnerved. It was as if he expected a Grimm to jump out of the storage compartment at any moment, his eyes constantly roaming and his hand twitching towards his weapon.

America personally did not understand his brother's reservations. There was nothing to worry about. Their fellow passengers were not even giving them a second glance. There weren’t flying into battle or enemy territory. They were in a completely new world, one without expectations, rivalries, or stupid misconceptions. Or politics. It was practically a vacation in America’s mind though others would likely not see it that way..

Hopefully England wasn’t freaking out too much about their absence. If anyone was going to panic about America vanishing off the face of the Earth, it would be him. Once he was done ranting about ‘that stupid bloody wanker’ pulling a disappearing act again.

America watched a flock of birds— or were they tiny Nevermore?— fly beneath the airship. England was definitely searching for him and Canada, no doubt about it. Tony was too. The guy would love whipping up a cool gizmo to find the missing nations. Unless it had not been long enough for them to realize the North American twins were gone…

_We were at a meeting. Of course they did. I just wish I remembered how long it’s been._

Canada pulled America away from the window. “Stop that. You’re smudging the glass.”

“But I want to see how different things are here.” America said innocently.

His twin shot him an unamused glare. “Right. You’re definitely not yammering aboot trying to annoy me, eh.” Wow, Canada must be irritated if his accent was showing.

“You don’t have to be so sarcastic, dude.” America huffed. “Besides, we’re almost there.”

He pointed out the window. In the distance was Vale. The city sprawled along the seashore, large docks and ports accompanied by tall and short buildings, some with sloped roofs. America could not identify all the sectors from this distance but knew there was a residential, industrial, and commercial district to be explored. The commercial district interested him the most because _obviously_ food. And maybe comic books if that brochure America snagged was current.

The airship landed smoothly and the twins and other passengers departed. America felt his excitement growing and he practically bounced along, spinning around as he tried to take in everything. His brother followed more slowly, also looking around, but Canada held an air of caution that America could not comprehend. The blue-eyed nation slung his arm across his brother’s shoulders.

“Relax, bro. We made it. We’re in Vale!” His grin widened.

Canada sighed unenthusiastically. “Why did we have to come here again?”

“Because it’s our best chance—” America cut himself off before he could say ‘to find answers’.

He could not explain why he felt the City of Vale was their best bet for a way home but he was going to trust the instincts telling him to go to the city. And now they were here. Mission accomplished. Well, the mission was getting home but Stage One accomplished.

“So what do you want to do?” he asked. “Get some food? Find a place to stay? Research?”

Canada thought about it, nervously tapping his fingers on his leg as they walked. “I’m not sure if they’ll even have information about…” he hesitated. “…traveling. We should probably try to get a job and apartment or something because I have a feeling we’re going to be here a while.”

“Sounds like a plan.” America agreed readily. “We’d better go to the commercial district then. I bet one of the stores has some Help Wanted signs.”

They headed towards the district and were almost immediately overwhelmed by crowds. It was midday on a weekend so of course the streets would be busy. Advertisements for a ‘Vytal Festival’ were everywhere too, only adding to the number of people in the city.

_No wonder the airship was so full. A lot of people came early for the Festival. It must be pretty big._

As they merged with the crowds, America felt someone brush against him and withheld a sigh. He was used to pickpockets. One did not live in places like New York City without picking up a few of their tricks. He calmly retrieved his wallet from the girl’s pocket, taking note of her appearance. Green hair, dark skin, twin revolvers. The hair alone made her easy to remember… though considering the other unique colors he had spotted, maybe not.

He _could_ confront her… but that would cause a scene. Not to mention she was armed and things could get messy fast. Thieves with weapons tended to react violently when caught. Besides, America had his awesome bunny wallet back— Lien and identification card included— so no harm done. The blue-eyed nation noticed he was lagging behind Canada and jogged to catch up to him. His brother waited for him, quirking an eyebrow.

“Someone tried to steal our money. I got it back.” He explained simply.

Canada blinked. “I didn’t even notice. Maybe you should keep carrying it.”

“Will do.” America agreed.

He checked his jacket and noticed a zipper pocket on the inside. Deciding that was a better spot than the back pocket on his jeans, he put the wallet in there.

The twins wandered a bit, occasionally jostled by the crowd. People chatted amicably or pointed out different storefronts, while others shouted irritably at cars that passed too close. It reminded America of his cities’ busiest streets and he loved it. It almost felt like home.

A sign caught his eye and he grinned in anticipation. From Dust Till Dawn was one of the many stores proudly featured in the brochure and America was eager to check it out. Basically, it had weapon things among other things, but it was definitely the weapon things that he wanted to see. He wanted to know how Dust worked and if they could find something similar on Earth.

An elderly man was outside with a toolbox and a damaged van that said ‘From Dust Till Dawn’ on the side. The front was slightly bent and caved in but looked like it could be fixed. The man’s expression, however, suggested that he had no clue how to do it. As America watched, the man that was likely the shopkeeper of the store jacked up the van and slid under it. The nation immediately noticed the tool was not secure. He crossed the street, walking up beside the shopkeeper’s legs.

“Hey—”

The jack lift slipped. America reacted on instinct, catching the van with one hand and pulling the owner out from beneath it with the other. Once he was sure the man was clear he let the van fall. It fell hard, bouncing slightly, and the two stared at it with wide eyes. America crouched so he was at the sitting man’s level.

“That was close. You okay, dude?” America asked urgently.

The shopkeeper looked at him, skin slightly pale and hands trembling. “I’m fine. Thank you.”

“No problem.” America said as Canada ran over.

No one else seemed to notice what had nearly happened, instead continuing with their days. America felt a burst of irritation at their obliviousness— or apathy— but let it go. Canada gently pushed the blue-eyed nation aside and checked over the man.

“Are you injured? Did anything hit you?”

“No, I think I’m all right.” The shopkeeper said. “It’s not the first time I’ve had a near-miss. Not the first time I’ve been saved either.” The man visible shook himself. He stood up, brushed off his pants, and took a deep breath. “I haven’t seen you around before. You two new here?”

“Yup. I’m Alfred and this is Mattie. We just arrived.” America admitted.

“Well, welcome to Vale.” The shopkeeper said warmly. “If you’re looking for books, Dust, crystals, cartridges, or scales, From Dust Till Dawn’s the place to go.”

“Okay.” America said. He had to wonder if the guy really was trying to sell things even now or if he fell back on habits as a defense mechanism.

“We’re looking for jobs, actually.” Canada interjected politely. “If you could point us to a place that would be wonderful.”

The elderly man slumped, then paused, looking at them thoughtfully. “Well… Do you have any shop keeping experience?”

“Yeah, we do.” America said, head tipping curiously.

The man smiled. “Would you like to work for me? I could use the help. Between the store and the noodle stand I’ve been busy.” He gave a wry chuckle. “I haven’t been getting much sleep. I’ve been intending to put up a Help Wanted Ad but haven’t had the time.”

America caught his brother’s eye, spotting the surprise in his violet irises. The more optimistic nation understood his twin’s thoughts for once. They couldn’t be that lucky, right? Canada hesitated, then nodded in assent.

“We’d be happy to assist you, dude.” America said. “I can even fix the van. And Mattie has some cooking experience if you want him to work at the noodle house.”

“Not that much experience…” Canada protested softly but the shopkeeper did not seem to mind.

The man perked up, some of the lines on his face easing away. “Excellent. You can start tomorrow if you’d like. I’ll give you the paperwork then.” He took a step towards the store and paused, looking back. “Oh, and you can bring your weapons to work. We got robbed before so I got approval for employees to carry arms.”

“Good to know.” America said, unbothered by the news.

In fact it excited him. If a thief tried anything, he could be a hero again. And it would make the job more thrilling. America had worked retail before and usually the only source of ‘excitement’ was grumpy customers.

The shopkeeper dug into his pocket and dropped some Lien into America’s palm. “This is for the save. You’ll get paid by the hour, every Friday from here on out.”

The blue-eyed nation frowned and opened his mouth, ready to say he couldn’t accept money for performing heroic deeds but Canada punched his arm.

“Thank you. We’ll meet tomorrow then.”

The shopkeeper agreed and they went their separate ways.

America instantly turned on his brother. “Matthew—”

“We need the money, Al.” the violet-eyed nation said quietly.

America grimaced but ended the conversation without protest, moving on to a new topic. “Fine.” He grinned. “Isn’t this awesome? We already landed jobs, dude. We’re going to be set.”

“I know. I just hope our luck doesn’t run out.” Canada murmured.

His brother waved dismissively. “Don’t be pessimistic. Look, we’ve got our foothold. Now we just have to stay afloat until we get home. It helps that the people here are so nice.”

“Says the guy who was almost robbed.” Canada retorted.

“No harm, no foul.” America said dismissively. “So do you think we have enough money for food or should we worry about finding a room first?”

It pained him to admit it but they might have to prioritize for a while, choosing one thing or the other. At least until they got their first paycheck. Now America understood why his brother had not rejected the money. They really did need it.

The look in Canada’s eyes told America he was thinking the same thing. “I think we’ll have to skip some meals if we want to have enough for a room. Sorry, Al.”

America looked at his brother’s face, a face that should be fuller and less drawn. His eyes should be brighter, less wary. Instead Canada was… scared. Of their past, present, future, and all the unknowns that came with them. His twin could not hide that from him. America just hoped he would be willing to talk to him about it soon.

“Don’t apologize, bro. Let’s keep touring.”

XXXXXXX

Velvet Scarlatina was tired. Truly, dreadfully exhausted. Her clothes were dirty, her ears drooping, and her eyes had bags so dark she was certain they would never fade. Her team was not much better. None were injured but all three moved with a slight stiffness, even the normally graceful Fox. Coco looked the best out of them all, naturally, keeping a cool and collected appearance despite the tiredness she must be feeling.

“Let’s move it.” She said briskly, walking with long strides. “We need to reach the next town as soon as possible. They have a Beowolf problem.”

“What town _doesn’t_ have a Beowolf problem?” Velvet asked. She did not intend to be heard, but one sharp stare from her leader told her that her words had not gone unnoticed. “Sorry.”

Coco’s firm face softened. “I know you’re tired. We all are. But we need to complete our mission and clear out the Grimm in this area. They’re getting too bold.”

“We know.” Yatsuhashi said calmly, placing a reassuring hand on Velvet’s arm. “I believe it may be wise to take a rest once we reach the village. We haven’t slept in a few days.”

Coco frowned but dipped her head in assent. “Fine. We’ll do that. We need to be in top shape for the next pack of Grimm.”

Velvet accepted her condition gratefully. She knew why her leader was so determined to keep going, but none of them were machines and they needed to rest sometime. The Faunus was more than a little relieved as the village finally came into sight through the trees. Coco straightened, brushing off any signs of exhaustion as they approached the two guards stationed at the entrance.

“Halt—! _Ow!_ ”

Velvet held back a giggle as the blond-haired guard whacked his partner upside the head. Coco ignored the humorous reaction in front of her and stopped in front of the two, one hand on her hip.

“We’re the team of Huntsmen summoned here to deal with your Beowolf infestation.”

“I wouldn’t call it an infestation,” the blond-haired guard muttered lowly before speaking at a louder volume. “Thank you for coming. But we believe the Grimm around our village have been dealt with.”

There was a beat of silence.

“How?” Coco demanded.

The dark-haired guard shrugged. “We don’t know. What we do know is that we haven’t had an attack in two days.”

Coco pinned him with her stare. “Is that significant?”

The guard nodded. “When you have attacks every single night for a month straight, yes.”

Velvet glanced at Yatsuhashi, who gave her a calming smile.

“I’m certain it’s nothing bad.” The guard hurried to say. “They might have moved on.”

“Grimm don’t ‘move on’ unless they find someplace easier to attack.” Coco said darkly.

The dark-haired guard frowned, irritated by her tone. “Well, we don’t know how else to explain it. They came every night, and then they suddenly stopped. It’s not like the Grimm are planning something.”

A shiver of unease went through the group at the thought.

“You know, maybe those twins did something.” The blond-haired guard mentioned.

“Twins?” Velvet questioned.

The guard nodded her way. To her relief, he did not even glance at her rabbit ears. “Yeah. A couple days ago two boys around your age came to town. Both looked a little worse for wear and had weapons like yours. They seemed a little young for Beacon but said they wanted to attend next year if they could.”

“That’s nice.” Coco said, evidently not caring to hear about the mysterious twins’ life stories. “Why do you think they have something to do with it?”

“One of the twins wanted to help get rid of the Grimm. He mentioned taking out a bunch of Beowolves in the forest.” The blond-haired guard said. “At least, he was about to but his brother stopped him. I think that kid had enough fighting and didn’t want to get involved.” He glanced around and leaned forward, voice lowering. “You… didn’t happen to stumble upon a destroyed village, did you?”

Velvet flinched, looking away. She saw Fox’s fists clench, while Yatsuhashi’s posture stiffened. Coco remained calm and seemingly unaffected. The Faunus knew better than to trust appearances.

“I see.” The guard said faintly. “I’m sorry.”

“We don’t know if that was the town they came from.” Coco said, voice clipped. “It might have been destroyed a while ago. It was… difficult to tell.”

_There was hardly anything left._

Velvet shoved the memories away, focusing on the conversation.

“Regardless, you should probably stay the night.” The blond-haired guard was saying. “I don’t know much about hunting Grimm, but I doubt you’ll want to do that in the dark. We have a nice inn in town.”

“That would be great. Thank you.” Coco said. She looked to her team. “Let’s go.”

They walked into the town and Velvet took the opportunity to watch the villagers. There were fewer out than was expected due to the time of day, but those that wandered about were calm and unhurried. They were not afraid of the monsters in the dark, secure in their safety once more.

_Unlike…_

“I don’t like this.” Coco said abruptly, making Velvet jump. The leader of Team CFVY smiled apologetically at her.

“If the Beowolves are gone, we should be grateful. This is one less pack we’ll have to deal with.” Yatsuhashi said calmly.

“But not enough to get us back to Beacon sooner. We’re still going to miss the dance.” Fox murmured.

“That doesn’t matter.” Coco said crisply. “We have to be sure. We’ll rest tonight and hunt in the morning. Any objections?”

There were none. The team gathered in the entrance to the inn, with Coco requesting rooms. Velvet stood off to the side, gripping her elbow with her other hand as she stared into space. She hoped everyone here would continue to not care about her being a Faunus. She hoped that Coco would calm down after a good night’s sleep. She hoped those twins had indeed killed the Grimm, especially if they truly were from that destroyed village CFVY stumbled upon.

Most of all, she hoped this mission would end soon.

She wasn’t sure how much more hunting and carnage she could take.

XXXXXXX

_Cold metal burned against his skin. It surrounded him like a coffin, icy against his bare back and arms as it kept him claustrophobically contained. He struggled, trying to shy away from its painful touch, but his body would not move. He was weak, paralyzed, **helpless,** and unable to escape **.** _

_His brother. He had to get to his brother. They were going to experiment on him. They were going to **kill** him. His brother couldn’t die. He knew what they tried. He saw what they **did**. He had to get out. He had to save his brother. He **had** to—_

_He could hear their voices, distant and muffled but terrifyingly close. He knew what was going to happen. He knew what they were going to do. But he could do nothing to stop them, could not plead or scream that he was still aware and could feel pain. He was only able to lay there uselessly as the hum of a machine started up— like they used on his poor brother his brother **his brother** — and **agony** tore through his veins—_

Tear-filled blue eyes snapped open. America sat up abruptly and frantically looked around, relaxing when he saw where he was. He was not in a metal coffin. He was not being tortured. He was out. He was safe.

Then why wouldn’t his heart stop pounding?

To calm himself, America connected with his people. It was much easier this time than when he first woke in the woods. His citizens were happy, almost excited, and the nation had to wonder if a holiday was coming up back on Earth. They had a twelve-month calendar here on Remnant, but there was no way to tell whether the months matched up between here and home. Sure, they were named the same but they might not happen at the same time.

He and Canada had been working at Dusk Till Dawn for a few weeks now and managed to scrape enough money together between the two of them for a small apartment. It was nothing amazing but it kept a roof over their heads and was wonderfully cheap. There was enough food in the fridge, enough money for the bills and some different outfits, and even some left over in case of an emergency. They’d learned— or remembered— facts about Remnant that everyone knew, no one immediately accused them of being outsiders, and they were being pretty incognito and ‘normal’ in America’s opinion.

In other words, they were settling rather well.

America did not want to settle. He wanted answers. He wanted to get home.

The library and bookstores had revealed nothing about interplanetary travel. He was pretty sure that these people might have never even _gone_ to their moon. America had been horrified upon finding that out and declared that he would start a space program… only to remember where they were and that they had no business interfering in Remnant. They kept trying to find answers though. That was one of the many constants they had adopted to pretend to have some normalcy on the alien world.

Another was the nightmares. Every night since arriving in Vale, America had been having dreams about being trapped in a coffin as some unknown people hurt him. Canada did not know and the blue-eyed twin had no intention of telling him. His brother was already so stressed and worried about the unknowns of their situation, America did not want to tell Canada he was possibly reliving horrific memories in his sleep.

Because what else could those terrible dreams be other than part of their missing time? The blue-eyed nation tried not to think about it in his waking hours. He was just glad his brother did not seem to be having similar sleeping issues.

Indeed, Canada was still asleep with half his blankets on the floor and his head stuffed under his pillow. America was glad they’d had enough money to get two twin-sized beds because his brother was— to put it lightly— a bed hog. He’d sprawl out and shove America onto the floor, steal all the blankets, and snore loud enough to wake the dead. There was little America could do to stop the last problem, but at least with his own mattress and sheets he didn’t have to deal with the first two.

America glanced at the clock on the bedside table. Six o’clock. They’d have to go to work soon. The blue-eyed nation stood up and stretched as he walked over to Canada, who was doing his best impression of a fog horn. America watched him fondly for a moment, appreciating the tangled mess of blankets his brother had gotten himself into, then grabbed the edge of the mattress.

“WAKE UP, BRO!” he shouted as he flipped the bed onto its side.

Canada yelped as he was deposited onto the floor, floundering as his limbs stayed caught in his blankets. Having successfully woken his twin, America ignored his panicked squeaks and went to the bathroom to shower. When he came out Canada had freed himself of his blanket-prison and was glaring at him.

“Did you stay like that the whole time or did you hear me coming?” America asked innocently.

Canada gave a low snarl.

America chuckled. “You’re grumpy before coffee. Go take a shower and it’ll be ready when you come out.”

Canada shot him another silent, murderous glare and stalked into the bathroom. America rolled his eyes unsympathetically as he wandered to the kitchen. If his twin did not like his way of waking him, he needed to learn how to get up on his own. America knew from experience that alarm clocks would be ignored or smashed into pieces by his brother. It was almost funny. Everyone expected America to not be the morning person, while in reality it was his quiet, polite brother that was an absolute monster to wake up.

Canada remained a grumpy bear until America set a steaming cup of coffee in front of him. Once he took the first sip, the violet-eyed nation perked up immediately, discarding the dark cloud of irritation that surrounded him. America had to laugh at his sudden change in mood.

“And there’s the Mattie I know and love.” It still felt weird to call his brother by his human name, but neither twin wanted to risk being scrutinized so they did it even in the safety of their new home. “How’d you sleep?”

“Great before I was thrown onto the floor.” Canada said bluntly.

America smirked as he sipped his own coffee. “You should be used to it by now. If I didn’t wake you we’d be late. The old man’s been really nice to us and I don’t want to ruin things by being tardy.”

“Of all the habits you could get from your people, why did punctuality have to be one of them?” Canada moaned. “I just want to sleep in.”

“You already do enough sleeping.” America said dismissively. “I swear you can take naps anywhere. You almost fell asleep behind the counter last week! Are you sure you’re not narcoleptic?”

“I’m not.” Canada claimed. “I just can’t help it. I’ve been a bit tired lately.”

America did not understand why and that secretly worried him. His brother had been getting full nights of sleep but still seemed to be having energy problems. Nations tended to only get sick or tired for so long when their country was in danger, but Canada claimed his people were completely fine. The blue-eyed nation wanted to press the issue but his twin moved on to a different subject before he could.

“We’re getting a paycheck today, right?”

America frowned, displeased with the unsubtle topic change, but let it go and nodded.

Canada sighed. “That’s good. The rent is coming up.”

“I know. Don’t worry about it. We have enough money.” America assured him. “More than enough, actually.”

That was another quirk Canada had gained along with his tiredness and apparent paranoia—paranoia that reminded America of himself during events like that Cold War but surely Mattie would never end up like that. He seemed to worry about their savings a lot, like he expected to be evicted from their new home at any moment. America did not know what had happened during their lost memories that had caused such a shift in his brother’s fears and was not sure he wanted to find out.

_Maybe we were homeless during that time…?_

America pushed that question to the back of his mind to think about later. He put his cup in the sink and grabbed his worker tag. His brother scrambled to copy him and the blue-eyed twin chuckled.

“No wonder you’re always late to meetings.”

Canada turned red and snatched his name tag from America’s hand. “It’s not like anyone notices anyway.”

“That doesn’t mean you shouldn’t be punctual.” America said in a purposely lofty tone. He wagged his finger for emphasis. “As a proud representative, you should look and act your best, for— _Ow_.” Canada whacked him on the arm. “Dude, not cool. Now where was I?  Oh yeah. Being late and lazy is highly rude and improper and as a nation it should be beneath— _Ow!_ Bro, quit it!”

Canada hit him one more time for good measure. “Stop pretending to be responsible. You sound like Eng— Arthur and it’s disturbing.”

America shuddered as he locked the apartment door behind them. “Don’t joke about such things. If I start coughing up blood when I say the word ‘Independence’, please put me out of my misery.”

“Got it.” Canada said solemnly, mouth twitching.

Thankfully, From Dust Till Dawn was walking distance of their apartment building, ensuring they wouldn’t have to get a car or ride public transportation to the shop. America filled the trip with random chatter, only stopping long enough to allow Canada to respond before rambling on. One good thing about Remnant was the world gave him a whole bunch of new ideas, though his twin failed to see the awesomeness of many of them.

“I’m just saying they should make giant robots to fight the Grimm.” He said as they entered the store. “That way they could _triple_ their manpower and protect more places. It’s obvious there aren’t enough Huntsmen around to defend everyone.”

“But robots wouldn’t have a human’s creativity.” Canada argued. “And what if they were hacked or something? They might attack people.”

“That’s easy. They could create countermeasures.” America said. “I mean, that’s the obvious thing to do isn’t it? Laws of Robotics and all that? Especially if the robots aren’t sentient. And if they think there’s been a breach or virus implanted, they restart and check the system. That’s standard procedure back home. Besides, I’m not saying the robots should take over hunting Grimm while humans just laze around. The robots should work _with_ the Huntsmen and Huntresses. That way they have the robots’ numbers and the humans’ ingenuity working in tandem, _plus_ they risk less people while covering more area.”

Canada thought about it as he flipped the sign to ‘Open’ and went behind the counter. “I suppose that could work.” The bell signifying someone had entered rang. “Can you check that? I need to sort these boxes and restock the shelves.”

“No problem, bro.” America agreed.

He headed back to the counter and immediately spotted their customer. It was a girl that was seemingly around their physical age but something about her was… off. She looked normal enough with a tan blouse, a pink bow, and curly orange hair with a little ahoge that reminded him much of his own. Yet she moved with a steadiness that spoke of some type of training. America instinctively scanned her for weapons— a habit he had gained with so many younger customers coming from Beacon— and his gaze settled on the backpack she wore.

 _Her weapons are probably there_ , he noted.

He resisted the urge to touch his baseball bat— which he had lovingly dubbed Cobalt Striker— in reassurance. Green eyes met blue and the girl beamed.

“Salutations!” she said.

America blinked. _Who says ‘salutations’ as a greeting?_ “Hey.”

Emboldened by his reply, the girl stepped closer, leaning forward. America did his best not to lean away, keeping a smile even though he was displeased by the invasion of his personal space.

“My name is Penny. I am not from around here. I am from Atlas. My friend Ruby said that this store is one of the best in Vale to buy Dust. Is that statement factual?”

Needless to say, the girl— apparently named Penny— was a little weird. But America was used to weird characters— Hell, he _was_ one— so he rolled with it. “I’m Alfred. Nice to meet you. Saying we’re the best is more of an opinion than a fact, but this store does have some pretty sweet deals on Dust and other weapons needs.”

Penny considered his words and nodded solemnly. “I see. What Dust would you recommend for my weapon?”

America shrugged. “I don’t know. I’d have to see them first.”

He’d become a bit of a weapon’s nut— _expert_ in the recent weeks, if he did say so himself. Canada called him crazy but he could not help it. The weapons were so unique and _amazing_ here, like something out of a comic book or anime. He wanted to know how they worked and why, and this job allowed him free range to give in to his impulses to take things apart and see how they functioned. He had learned the ways of transforming weapons and Dust quickly and by now the blue-eyed twin was pretty sure he could design and build a weapon of his own. And maybe he had in the forgotten past, by forging Cobalt Striker and Canada’s weapon, Maple Frost.

It was _awesome_.

Penny paused and brightened abruptly. “Of course!”

America held up a hand before she could deploy said weapons. “Hold on a second.”

Penny looked around in puzzlement. “What am I supposed to hold onto?”

The blue-eyed nation ignored her and called to Canada. “Mattie! This girl’s going to show me her weapons. She’s not robbing us. Don’t freak out and attack her, okay?”

A distant— and indignant— “I wouldn’t!” came from the back and he chuckled, looking at his customer. “Okay, you can show them now.”

Penny still looked puzzled about ‘holding on’ but did as he asked. Her backpack opened and swords flew out, hovering around her.

 _Not hovering_ , America noted. _On strings._

“What kind of guns do these have?” he asked, because by now he knew practically every weapon was also a gun. Hell, even non-weapons were part-gun. He bet that even the _toasters_ were part-gun. It was like a requirement or something.

“They generate an intense beam of coherent monochromatic light by stimulated emission of photons from excited atoms or molecules.” She said promptly.

America stared. “What?”

Penny frowned, seeming to struggle to explain a different way. “They… produce light amplification by stimulated emissions of radiation.”

The nation went over the words in his head a few times. “…You mean lasers?”

She brightened. “Yes, that’s what I said!”

America wished Canada had taken this one. “Sounds cool.”

“Actually they can be quite hot.” Penny corrected him.

The blue-eyed nation decided to ignore that and focus on the awesome weapons before him. After asking permission, he gently grabbed one of the swords and inspected it. “I’m guessing the energy channels through the cables to reach the blades, right?”

“That is correct.” Penny chirped.

America hummed vaguely, tapping his fingers on his chin as he thought. “Depending on how your weapons are built, I’d say Lightning Dust would be your best bet. It’s good for long range and would give the Grimm quite the shock when you stabbed them.”

Sadly, his pun went completely over the girl’s head.

“What is the deciding factor for its use?” she questioned.

“Like I said, how your weapon’s made.” America said. “Lightning Dust is tricky and if your weapon allows for the current to circle back, you could get shocked by your own weapon.”

Penny nodded slowly. “I understand. That will not be an issue. My father built m— my weapons in a way to ensure the Dust discharge will not affect my body. There is no chance of the Lightning Dust harming me.”

 _Why did it sound like she was going to say something else?_ America dismissed the question and smiled. “Great. Would you like to buy some?”

“Yes, please.” Penny said. She put her weapons away and handed over the Lien.

America gave her the Dust in return. “Thank you for shopping at From Dust Till Dawn. I hope you’ll come back soon—” He stumbled over the goodbye, trying to come up with a word other than his usual ‘dude’ or ‘bro’. “— friend.”

Penny’s green eyes widened and she practically glowed. “Yes! I will indeed return. _Thank you_ , Alfred my friend.”

She left before he could try to correct her. America watched her go, then slowly planted his forehead on the counter and groaned. Canada came up next to him and placed his hand on his brother’s shoulder.

“What happened?”

America did not look up from the counter. “A girl came in. She’s the kind of person that doesn’t really get metaphors or jokes. She wasn’t _annoying_ , but she’s so– so _clueless_! Even more than me or It— Feliciano. When she left, I didn’t want to call her ‘dude’ or ‘bro’ because then I’d have to explain it to her, so I called her ‘friend’ instead.”

Canada’s lips twitched suspiciously. “Let me guess. She took it literally. Now she thinks you’re her friend and is going to come back.”

America let loose a small whine.

“…At least she doesn’t think she’s your girlfriend.”

The blue-eyed nation felt no remorse when he smacked his brother on top of the head, sending him sprawling to the ground. If their boss walked in he’d just claim Canada fell asleep on the job. His twin deserved to get reprimanded after what he said.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have this headcanon that America is smarter than he acts, but he usually only applies said smarts when something interests him. In this case, he was interested in how Remnant’s weapons work, so he learned everything he could about them.  
> 


	4. Collision

“Please?”

“No.”

“Pretty please?”

“No.”

“Pretty _pretty_ plea—”

“ _No_ , Alfred! You’re not driving!” Canada snapped.

America pouted. Seeing that his brother was purposely not looking in his direction, he leaned into Canada’s line of sight so his twin could see how deeply and seriously saddened he was by his refusal. One violet eye twitched and America held back a snigger. His brother was so easy to rile up sometimes. Especially when they were stuck in a van and poor Canada had nowhere to escape to. Maybe that was why his bro always refused to go on road trips with him?

The two brothers were out on the streets of Vale, picking up products to be brought back to From Dusk Till Dawn. The shopkeeper needed them to restock the shelves, but naturally their normal deliverymen were experiencing backlog issues, leaving their package on delay for at least three business days— which equated to a week or two in normal-people days.

After some heckling and annoyed threats, the old man had managed to convince the company to let the twins pick up the items and bring it back to the store themselves. Canada had driven the way there, and now he was driving the way back, which was totally unfair.

“But bro, you got to drive the van last time. And the time before that. _And_ the time before that. Can’t I have a turn?” America pleaded.

“No.” Canada groused. “You’ll drive like a maniac.”

“I think you’re mistaking me for Feliciano.” The blue-eyed nation muttered. “Come on, dude! This is like the third time you been a van-hog. I fixed this thing. I should be able to drive it. Besides, we’re on the back roads. It’s not like there’s many people to crash into.”

“There’s parked cars along the road.” His brother said stiffly. “You _will_ hit them.”

“Will not!” America denied. “I’m not that b— _Ow_.” His stomach twisted and he curled up slightly as a light burning sensation went through his abdomen.

Canada shot him a concerned look. “Are you all right?”

“Fine, fine.” America said even as he felt sweat bead on his brow. “I think that burger I ate for breakfast was bad.”

“I _told_ you the color looked off!” Canada chided. “It was two days old and with all those slimy condiments on it. What did you expect?”

America’s gut twisted into fancy knots and he groaned. He leaned his head against the window, appreciating the cold glass against his hot skin.

“Stop being mean and feel sorry for me.” He whined. His stomach lurched. “…I think I’m gonna hurl.”

“Aim out the window, please.” Canada begged. “I don’t think the boss will be happy if he has to clean up—”

_BOOM!_

A pillar of smoke and fire burst into the sky to their right, accompanied by a low, concussive roar that shook the earth.

Canada slammed on the brakes with a yell, twisting the wheel in an attempt to pull the van back under control. They screeched to a halt in the middle of the road, and America’s head smacked against the window. Luckily his Aura— it turned out he and Canada both had it and did not remember how— took the brunt of the damage, though the impact still stung.

The blue-eyed nation put a hand to his head, wincing as pain flared from the spot and accompanied his stomachache. Apparently his body decided that he needed heartburn as well to brighten up his day because his chest began to ache too. America hardly noticed, still trying to comprehend what had just happened.

Canada gasped. “Was that an _explosion?!_ ”

America followed his gaze, sight drifting upward with the plume of smoke rising from nearby. A chill went through him and he opened the van door, staggering out and falling to the ground.

“Al!”

Canada ran around the van and knelt in front of his brother. His violet eyes were wide, his skin ashen, and he looked like he was going to be sick. America pushed him away and _was_ sick, vomiting onto the street. He wiped at his mouth and stumbled to his feet. His twin hovered at his elbow, steadying him.

“Are you—?”

“We have to help.” America panted. “There could be people in danger!”

Canada hesitated but shook his head. His whole body was shaking. “No. We need to leave. That was an _explosion_ , Al. It’s not our job to go. We can’t—”

“ _Yes we can!_ ” America shouted. “I’m not going to abandon people that need help!”

He shoved his brother off of him and ran towards the site of the explosion as sirens began to scream in the distance. The smoke was mostly gone, but some blackness still plumed from the wreckage, reaching up to the sky. Except it was not smoke at all.

America halted, stunned into stillness as he turned a corner and finally came upon the scene. A gaping hole was in the wall that he knew led to a series of tunnels under Vale, a hole large enough for a train to go through. And coming right out of it was the Grimm.

Beowolves, Creeps, Ursas, King Taijitus, Death Stalkers, Boarbatusks, and Nevermores raced and flew through the streets, chasing down fleeing civilians. He heard his brother give a low, horrified gasp— Mattie had come with him— beside him.

“The Grimm…” Canada whispered.

America’s aches vanished and he ran at the closest Ursa, which was looming over a woman and a young boy. With an enraged shout he unsheathed Cobalt Striker in its bayonet form, impaling the Grimm through the eye. It fell and faded into smoke and he turned to the woman.

“Run!”

“Thank you.” She grabbed her son and raced away with him in her arms.

America spotted a Nevermore swooping down and gritted his teeth, transforming his bat into its shotgun mode. He hit the Nevermore in its wing and it tottered but refused to fall, still diving towards frantically-running people. Another set of bullets accompanied the nation’s own, one striking it directly in the eye, and the Grimm fell, unable to survive the dual barrage.

America turned to his brother and nodded sharply. “Nice shot.”

Canada nervously nodded back but— upon spotting more Grimm flooding the streets— slung Maple Frost over his shoulder, expression growing determined. “There’s more.”

America eyed the charging Ursas and Creeps with burning fury. “Noted.”

America loved to be the hero. He loved showing off and winning fights. He loved kicking monster butt and taking names. But people were in trouble. People were _dying_. Helpless civilians were fleeing as the Grimm they feared most invaded their home, a place that should be _safe_.

And he couldn’t shake the feeling that this _wasn’t_ an accident…

So, with an intensity and rage rarely seen in the cheerful nation, America attacked. He plowed into the oncoming Grimm, bashing them aside with all the strength he possessed. Many of his blows ripped heads from monstrous shoulders, while others sent enemies flying so hard they disintegrated on impact.

He landed on top of a Deathstalker and stabbed it with his blade, pointing the gun at the crack and firing through its body. He rolled out of range of an Ursa’s strike and shot it in its ugly mug, launching off its body to gain leverage to slam his baseball bat down on a Creep’s head.

All the while he was carried by a single, overpowering thought.

_Protect. Protect. **Protect**._

America was distantly aware of Canada fighting at his side. His brother did not have as much brute strength as his southern twin but his blows were still devastating, his hockey stick acting more like a cleaver than an instrument meant for sports. America had suspected the blade of the hockey stick was a _literal_ scythe-like blade and apparently his hunch was correct.

The blue-eyed twin had to grin when a sharp pull was all it took relieve a Deathstalker of its stinger, with his brother expertly sliding under the scorpion-like Grimm and killing it. They evaded the slumped, dissipating body, and America noticed they were not alone.

More Huntsmen and Huntresses were in the area, tearing through the Grimm. They were surprisingly young— probably teenagers— and America could not help but feel a surge of concern for them. It was obvious they were skilled fighters but still…

His attention zeroed in on the one that was obvious youngest of the group. A black-haired girl in a red cloak dispatched of a group of Boewolves, moving so quickly she was practically a blur. America mentally cheered her on as he smashed through a few Ursa, taking a breather as there was a lull in the horde of Grimm. A low whining sound reached his ears and he saw the girl look up, silver eyes following the ships descending from the sky.

An Ursa lunged for her from behind. America grabbed it before it could sink its claws into her back, throwing it away and shooting it. It slumped to the ground, fading away, and he turned to the girl.

“Are you okay?”

She nodded, surprisingly calm for someone who nearly got mauled by a giant demon bear. America ran off towards the Alpha he spotted scaling a nearby building, bringing down bits of mortar with every lunge.

Her shout followed him. “Hey, wait—!”

He did not turn back, intent on his prey. America sprang off of a tipped van and landed on the Alpha’s back, bayonet stabbing through its head. He fell with his dissolving foe and landed smoothly, looking up. The nation grinned in triumph.

More Huntsmen and Huntresses had arrived, along with— were those _robots?_ _Yes!_ — and were killing the Grimm and keeping them contained, preventing further casualties. America returned to his brother’s side and they took out the swarm of Boarbatusks that charged them.

The blue-eyed nation laughed. “See? I told you robots would be cool!”

He turned to Canada and his smile faded. The violet-eyed nation did not look happy to see their reinforcements. Instead, he looked _terrified_.

“Mattie, what’s wrong…?”

A shadow fell over the brothers and Canada yanked America aside, avoiding the Nevermore’s attempt to grab them in its talons. It screeched, shooting its feathers at them like throwing daggers but the twins dodged. The violet-eyed nation shot at the bird, hitting it in the wing, and America dove in close, slamming his bat into its skull. The Grimm’s beaked head hit the ground with a loud thud and it slowly turned to smoke.

The brothers did not pause to revel in their victory, continuing the fight. The Grimm were still leaking from the tunnels, determined to invade the human city and kill all they could reach. America grimaced angrily as he sent three Beowolves flying.

_How many more are there?!_

“Oh, thank goodness.” Canada breathed.

America followed his gaze and gave a small whoop. Pieces of rubble were floating back into place over the hole, likely directed by someone’s Semblance. As the twin nations watched, the hole was skillfully sealed, stopping more Grimm from coming through. A few more gunshots rang out, and then a peaceful silence fell over Vale, broken only by the cheers of the remaining civilians as they realized the ordeal was over.

America solemnly noticed a few bodies among the wreckage around them but pushed the thoughts of the fallen aside, focusing on the living. It appeared that none of the Huntsmen or Huntresses had perished in the fight but he could not currently see them all to be certain.

_I hope that girl’s okay._

America scanned the nearby Huntsmen and Huntresses for her, searching for black hair. He spotted one and stepped forward but quickly comprehended that it was a different person. First of all, the hair and clothes were different and this girl was taller and older. See Canada? He could notice these things. Good thing he didn’t approach or call out to her. That would have been awkward as Hell.

The Huntress turned towards him and amber eyes met blue.

_Don’t show anything._

America forced his eyes to casually move on, revealing no further interest in the woman than the cursory norm. Yet he could not deny the way his heart pounded frantically and his blood roared through his veins with enough adrenaline to make him feel faint.

He was torn between the desire to flee and the desire to fight, fear and anger warring for control within him along with the urge to take Canada and _run_. He did not know the woman but somehow he _did_. He did not know how, but he knew she was a _monster_. There was only one explanation for his feelings.

_We met her during the missing time. But she didn’t seem to recognize me?_ Something prodded at the edge of his conscious mind, a mixture of feeling and memory and a unexplainable desire to get his brother _as far away from her as possible_.

_Did… Did she **hurt Mattie…**? _

Thankfully, the black-haired Huntress did not approach them. Instead the older blonde-haired woman was walking purposely towards them. Still fighting against his strongly adverse reaction to the amber-eyed woman, America turned urgently to his brother.

“Don’t trust the amber-eyed woman.” America hissed lowly. “She’s a villain.”

Canada followed the direction he had just been looking, spotting the woman. His violet eyes went round— with recognition and fear?— but America did not have time to question him. The blonde-haired woman stopped in front of them, expression stern and mouth opening, only to pause. The slightest bit of concern made it past her stiff visage, and America realized it was directed at him.

“Are you okay?”

The blue-eyed nation jumped despite himself, gripping his weapon close to his chest. He tried to answer but all he could emit was a small, nervous grunt. What was wrong with him? Canada was the jumpy one, not him. He was the cool-and-awesome hero.

Canada gently put a hand on his shoulder before rubbing his back soothingly. “Sorry. This attack brought up some bad memories.”

The woman’s eyes softened. “I see.” Her gaze grew sharp again. “I do not recognize you from among my students. Are you from another school?”

Oh dear. The understanding of their possible situation was enough to bring America out of his panicked slump, instead dumping him into a new source of alarm.

“Uh, no. We’re not students.” Canada said nervously.

Green eyes grew neutral. “I see.” She repeated. “Let me introduce myself, then. I am Glynda Goodwitch, a Professor of Beacon Academy. I need you two to come with me.”

XXXXXXX

“I blame you for this.”

America widened his eyes, adopting a wounded expression Canada did not fall for. “How is this my fault?”

“You decided to go investigate and help.” The violet-eyed nation said flatly. “And now we’re here.”

The two nations sat in an interrogation room at the police station. They had not been arrested or anything, but apparently a Huntress’ demand that the police hold two people and relieve them of their weapons was enough for them to be stuck here without further information about what was going to happen.

Canada was honestly surprised that they had not been put in separate rooms, but supposed that their… ‘captors’ might be trying to get them to let something incriminating slip. That is, if they even intended to arrest them for… whatever they had done wrong.

_What, is helping save people illegal here?_

He only noticed his brother was staring at him when he saw sharp blue in his peripheral vision. Canada twitched, startled by the intensity in his normally goofy twin’s expression.

“I don’t regret it.” America said, unusually stern. “I’ll never stand by and ignore people that need my help. What kind of hero would I be if I did?”

“An honorable sentiment if there ever was one.” A male voice said.

Both twins looked to the door, one mildly interested, the other wary. In the doorway stood a seemingly middle-aged man, the youthfulness of his face contradicted by the silver color of his hair and his glasses. In one hand he had a cane— most likely his weapon— and the other a coffee mug, from above which he observed them with intelligent brown eyes.

Canada’s instincts told him this man was strong and influential, almost like some of the politicians back home but not quite. There was a strangeness surrounding him that accompanied his underlying aura of strength, and that made the violet-eyed nation wary. His brother apparently had no such reservations. He bounced in his seat with excitement.

“You’re Professor Ozpin, Headmaster of Beacon Academy.” America said, awed.

The man— Ozpin— smiled mysteriously. “I see you’ve heard of me.”

“Of course I have, Prof. _Everyone’s_ heard of you.” America emphasized. “You’re pretty cool.”

“Why, thank you.” The Headmaster sat down in the empty chair across from the twins. “I apologize for making you wait so long. I had… other matters to attend to.”

“It is fine, sir.” Canada said softly. “I’m sure you had a lot to take care of after the breach.”

He remembered the Headmaster of Beacon now. Didn’t Headmasters here have a lot more influence because they were pretty-much teaching their kingdom’s future security force? Or maybe more accurately, teaching their kingdom’s future in general. Either way, Ozpin was not just a simple teacher. He was a powerful man.

He could be dangerous.

“Did most of the civilians make it out okay?” America interjected before Ozpin could reply.

The Headmaster grew grave. “A majority of the damage was to property, but I’m afraid there were numerous casualties.”

America’s face fell and he stared at the tabletop. A bolt of sorrow pierced Canada as well, but not as fiercely as his twin. America always did take it harder whenever he ‘failed’ to save someone. The violet-eyed nation gripped his brother’s hand, squeezing it lightly in support. He was given a tiny, reassuring smile in response.

“There would have been more had you not intervened.” Ozpin continued. “Where did you learn to fight the creatures of Grimm? According to our records you were not trained at Signal or another primary combat school.”

_And here we go. Interrogation time._

“We couldn’t go to school but we were trained by our older brother.” Canada began carefully. “We lived outside of the Kingdoms until recently.”

_Stay calm. Keep it vague. Use half-truths. Don’t contradict myself._

_America, **please** stay quiet._

Ozpin showed no sign of believing or disbelieving him. “I see. And you moved to Vale?”

“Not right away.” America said. Canada resisted the instinct to twitch, only able to pray his brother would not say anything incriminating. “We lived in a small village for a bit. Arthur wanted us to… to have a better life than him. He just wanted what was best for us.” Blue eyes grew cloudy with sorrow.

_‘An older brother named Arthur’…? Of course. He’s thinking of England and the American Revolution_ , Canada realized.

Ozpin eyed America thoughtfully. “Where is your brother now?”

“We don’t know.” America replied before Canada could say anything. “We can’t contact him. And he’s been gone for so long. And we never got to say g-goodbye.” His voice cracked.

Canada bit his lip, concern growing.

Lines had appeared on Ozpin’s face, making him appear older. “You two are from Westwind, aren’t you?”

The name was familiar, uncomfortably so.

_Running through dense woods—_

_Gunshots, fighting, shouts—_

_Safety, haven, help—_

_Roaring fires, destruction, desperate screams—_

_Running again, keep running, have to escape—_

Canada flinched. “It’s gone.” He whispered, hand to his head. _We were there. What **happened?**_

“Indeed.” Ozpin said solemnly. His brown eyes flicked to America, who was shaking slightly. “I’m sorry for your loss.”

“My brother isn’t dead!” America snapped. He deflated almost immediately, seeming to shrink before their eyes. “Sorry.”

“There is no need to apologize.” Ozpin said soothingly. “You must be tired after today’s events. So let me get to the point.”

America looked at him. Canada tensed, holding his breath. This was it. They were going to be interrogated and thrown in jail and separated and experimented on once their jailors realized they weren’t human—

“Would you like to attend Beacon?”

The twin’s blinked, mirroring each other almost perfectly.

“…What?” Canada managed to voice.

Ozpin smiled thinly. “I think that you heard me.”

“We can go to Beacon?” America asked anyway.

“That is my offer.” Ozpin said. “Since you are starting late, think of this first semester as a trial run until the next official school year starts. I’ll ask that you attend classes, but you will not be put into official teams until later.”

“What if we don’t want to attend at all?” Canada asked, wary.

The Headmaster looked him in the eye. “Then you can return to your normal lives, though I’d have to ask that you refrain from assisting in the next emergency. We cannot have civilians fighting the Grimm, even ones of your skill.”

“I’ll always help people whether I have permission or not.” America said sharply, straightening in his seat. “Though I guess I’d rather not get in trouble…”

Canada did not reprimand him with a look, just glad to see his brother’s misery was fading away. America always got solemn and quiet whenever he thought of his independence from England, and the feelings had to be worse since he could not go bug the poor Englishman to feel better.

_Or maybe he realized we might never see England again—_ Canada shoved the pessimistic thought away. They _would_ get home.

“Do you accept then?” Ozpin asked.

Canada looked at his twin, who stared back. The light had returned to America’s eyes and he nodded once. The violet-eyed nation sighed. “Alright. We’ll go to Beacon.”

Ozpin’s smile grew. “Wonderful. I will go sign the paperwork for your release. You can go home tonight and deal with anything you must in Vale. An airship will come to pick you up at noon tomorrow.”

“Thank you, sir.” Canada said politely, unsure if he felt thankful at all.

Truthfully, he was trapped. It did not feel like a choice. It felt like he had been slowly manipulated into a situation he had no hope of escaping. He could not shake the feeling that Ozpin was doing this for reasons other than a vague interest in two talented potential-Huntsmen. It should take much more than their feats today to impress the Headmaster. So why did he want them at Beacon? Could he possibly see they were different? Could he know they were nations?

_That’s ridiculous_ , Canada thought as the Headmaster bade his leave and walked out, shutting the door behind him. _For all we know, Remnant might not even have national representatives._

Shaking his head, the violet-eyed nation turned to his oddly quiet twin. “Are you doing okay?” _What was that earlier?_

“Yeah.” America said. “I’m cool. Sorry for the near-breakdown earlier. I don’t know what was wrong with me. I still have that stupid stomachache and now my head and chest hurts too and— and when I thought about the people we couldn’t save and Arthur and Francis and everyone else...”

“I’m sorry too.” Canada said. “I… didn’t want to help. Well, I did but I was… _scared_ for some reason. The Grimm attack, I-I—”

_Fear. Horror. He couldn’t move. His city. Why was it always his city? **Why?**_

Canada shook himself and silently hugged his brother. America leaned into him, laying his head on his twin’s shoulder.

“Don’t worry.” Canada murmured. “We’ll figure out where Arthur is.” _We’ll figure out what happened to us._ “We’ll find him.” _We’ll find a way home._ “What happened to Westwind wasn’t our fault.” _I’m certain it wasn’t._ “I promise it’ll be okay.” _As long as we’re together, we’ll be fine._

Almost like he understood what could not be said, America nodded into his shoulder. “I know.”

XXXXXXX

Ozpin watched the brothers through the mirrored glass, sipping his cooling coffee. Glynda stood beside him, arms crossed and a disapproving frown on her face.

“Why must you insist on recruiting unknowns for the school?” she asked bluntly. “These boys appeared out of nowhere, and with Westwind destroyed we have no way to investigate the validity of their story.”

“Their paperwork is authentic, I assure you.” Ozpin said calmly. “As is the fact that they’ve been living and working in Vale for the past few weeks.”

“But before that, there’s nothing.” Glynda insisted. “For all we know, they could be associated with those that attacked—” She faltered slightly before continuing. “— Amber.”

“They aren’t.” Ozpin claimed firmly.

“ _How_ do you know?” his colleague demanded.

The Headmaster did not answer at first, instead sipping his coffee. It really was cold by now, the flavor now just slightly too bitter and off. He did not mind. A hot cup would be waiting for him when he got back to his office anyway.

“There is something special about them.” He murmured at last. “Something… familiar.”

Glynda’s green eyes narrowed, then widened. “You don’t think…?”

Ozpin took a slow gulp of his coffee. “I am not certain. All I have to go by is my instincts and feelings. And they are telling me… that I should have a nice little chat with our dear General _very_ soon.”

“What does James have to do with any of this?” Glynda asked warily.

Ozpin watched the boys. They were so close that it was hard to distinguish one Aura from the other, their familiar bond so strong that it was likely impossible to tear them apart. But amidst the meshed twin souls was a familiar presence, familiar like an old friend, though the Headmaster could not quite pinpoint where he had felt it before…

Except maybe he could.

Ozpin shrugged. “I am not certain as of yet. Let’s call it a hunch for now. But once we return to Beacon, please try to contact Qrow. Tell him to return to Beacon early. There’s something important we must discuss.”


	5. Rubies and Junipers

Beacon Academy. A school where aspiring Huntsmen and Huntresses trained to destroy the Creatures of Grimm that sought to exterminate humanity.  It was the pride of Vale, its crowning feature and achievement. Many would work years to walk within its halls as one of its Huntsmen-to-be, and of those many, most would never get the chance to achieve their goal. Like Beacon Academy’s name suggested, it was a beacon, a shining light for hopes and dreams for a better, brighter future…

In Canada’s opinion Beacon was none of those things.

To him, it was more of an obstacle, prison, and dream-killer. Sure, their schooling would be absolutely paid for and they wouldn’t have to worry about money anymore, but the school was just that: _school_. School, where students had much less privacy and free time than they realized. Their actions would be dictated, they had to follow schedules, they would be subtly watched by teachers and staff… In other words, it was almost as bad as being in a high-security prison in Canada’s mind.

Normally he would be happy to go to such a facility, eager to learn, but the things he wanted to learn about now would not be answered within Beacon’s halls. And even if the answers about how he and America got to Remnant and what happened during their missing days _was_ there somehow, it would be incredibly risky to seek them out with Ozpin breathing down their necks.

The more paranoid part of Canada that had been rearing its wary head a lot lately nervously wondered if that was the Headmaster’s plan. Watch them and figure out all their secrets before turning on them. Luckily, logic dictated that surely Ozpin would not waste time inviting them to Beacon if that was his endgame.

Canada and America were going to Beacon.

They were at Beacon.

A school.

For _teenagers_.

For _angsty, melodramatic_ teenagers.

For angsty, melodramatic teenagers _with superpowers and weapons_.

_Someone’s going to try to bully me. I can already see it happening. Whyyyy…?_ Canada whined mentally.

At least their transition from the civilian to Huntsmen worlds had gone smoothly. The shopkeeper had not been happy that they were leaving and even _less_ happy that the reason his employees had vanished mid-shift was because they’d been ‘wrongfully arrested by dang bureaucratic fools who should know better and I oughta go down there and give them a piece of my mind!’ It had taken much convincing from Canada and a few flippant, calming jokes about the situation from America to stop the man from going to Beacon and confronting somebody with a rolled up magazine and a wok.

Once he calmed down, the shopkeeper urged them to move on to their futures without regrets. He was not such a stingy bastard that he would deny them this opportunity, he claimed, and they parted ways amicably enough and with some free Dust and ammo courtesy of their former boss. Canada resolved to visit the old man whenever he went to Vale, to make sure he had not had another near-accident at the very least. The shopkeeper may be kind and apparently overprotective, but he was also a bit unlucky and clumsy.

“What are you thinking about, bro?” America asked, poking his cheek.

Canada swatted his hand away and shrugged, frowning at Beacon’s tall towers. “I still don’t like this. Any of this. Ozpin’s… _offer_ seems too good to be true. And if we refused, I feel like he wouldn’t let us go. That he’d find a way to force us to come. It’s unsettling. I feel like a— a—”

“A boxed crook?” America offered.

Canada frowned, disliking his phrasing. “Without the criminal part, eh.”

America tipped his head and raised an eyebrow. “I get it. It _is_ a little convenient that the Headmaster of Beacon wants us at his school. But… it seems that he’s kind of like Dumbledore. The only question is whether he’s canon Dumbledore or fanfic Dumbledore…?” His brow furrowed in thought.

Canada chuckled but acknowledged his brother’s odd comparison. Was Ozpin as kind and generous as he seemed or was he secretly a manipulative bastard that would turn on them ‘for the greater good’? It was a little embarrassing that both nations understood what the blue-eyed twin was referencing but the secret message would work to their advantage if the need arose.

_If we have to use Earth’s pop culture references as a code, so be it. It’s not like they’ll understand unless we explain… Huh. That’s actually a good idea._

He wondered if his brother realized that or not.

They halted outside the grand doors. The school was a lot bigger up close, its shadows seeming to fall over them both. Canada pondered whether that was a sign of things to come. America practically vibrated with excitement while his twin slumped miserably.

_This is going to suck._

America grinned at him. “Don’t look so grumpy, bro. You’re acting like you’re being walked to your execution. It’s _just_ magic-high school. I’m sure nothing bad will happen…” His grin grew mischievous. “…and besides, it’s too early to have made any enem—”

“Hey!”

Canada yelped and hid behind his brother. America twitched, then sprang backwards, keeping his brother behind him as a red blur shot towards them. Canada reached for his weapon, ready to defend against the attack— only for the blur to halt and become a smiling girl in a red cloak.

_What bright silver eyes_ , was Canada’s first thought.

“It’s you!” she greeted. “You’re the guy that saved me from that Ursa!”

America stared at her uncomprehendingly but quickly recovered, adopting a Hollywood smile. “Er… Hi?”

The girl blinked, noticed how close she was leaning to him, and turned a brilliant crimson. She backed up, fiddling with her cloak and abruptly turned bone-white.

“Oh Gods, I did a Penny!” she yelped.

“…What?” America said slowly.

The girl’s skin returned to the same color as a tomato and she shoved her hood over her head, hiding her face. Laughter reached the three students’ ears and Canada peered around his brother, spotting seven more approaching figures— two boys and five girls.

“Good job, sis.” The girl with long blonde hair cackled. “That was an awesome first impression.”

Somehow, the first girl turned redder than her cloak. “Yannnngggg. _Doonnnn’ttt_.” She wailed.

The blonde-haired girl smirked and ruffled her hair— or at least tried to. She could only touch her hood. “Don’t worry, Rubes. You’re just socially awkward! I assure you, it’s _adorable_.”

The red-cloak wearing girl puller her hood further over her face. “Please _stopppppp_ ….”

_Siblings_ , Canada thought as he watched them. _Definitely siblings._

A soft cough drew their attention and they all looked to the green-clothed, black-haired teenaged boy. “Perhaps introductions are in order.” He said pointedly.

The silver-eyed girl uncovered her face, which had turned back to a more natural color. “R-Right.” She cleared her throat and held out her hand. “Hi! I’m Ruby. This is Weiss, Blake, Yang, Jaune, Pyrrha, Nora, and Ren. We form Teams RWBY and JNPR.”

She pointed at each of her friends with her other hand as she introduced them.

Canada frowned. _…I already forgot most of their names. Crap._

America shook her hand enthusiastically, while Canada did much more gently. The violet-eyed nation let his brother speak for the both of them.

“I’m Alfred and this is my brother, Matthew. We’re not on a team yet. Nice to meet you!”

There was a slight shift in the air, like tension was being released. Canada slowly realized his brother’s open friendliness towards the noticeably youngest girl was being met with approval.

_What would they have done if he wasn’t nice then? And why does it matter? Has Ruby been rejected or bullied because she’s younger than everyone else?_

It was not hard to see that Ruby was indeed the youngest, not because of her height but because of the way Yang hovered by her and the innocence in her bright silver eyes.

The black-haired Faunus girl— seriously, a bow didn’t come close to hiding her twitching ears— looked at America thoughtfully. “I thought I hadn’t seen you around here before. How is it that you’re at Beacon now?”

America shrugged. “We’re… kind of on a test run, I guess. The Headmaster was impressed by our actions during the breach so he asked us to attend Beacon.”

“You were there during the breach?” the orange-haired girl— Nella?— asked excitedly.

“Um, _yeah_. That’s why Ruby came over…?” the blond-haired boy beside her— Jim?— mentioned.

“I knew that. I was just checking.” Numa chirped. It _was_ Numa, wasn’t it? Of course it was. Canada was great at remembering names.

“Nora, right?” America asked.

_Not Numa then. Crap,_ Canada thought.

At her bouncy nod, the blue-eyed twin continued. “Yeah, we were there. We weren’t Huntsmen but we were trained and wanted to help.”

“You did amazing!” Ruby— at least her name was easy— blurted. “You were all like _whoosh!_ and the Grimm was like _blegh!_ and you were like _kachow!_ and—”

Canada slowly tuned her out, but was unable to stop himself from staring in horror. _Oh Maple, she’s doing **sound effects**. Like **America**. Oh my God. Is she his counterpart from a parallel dimension? No. I can’t deal with two Americas!_

Only Nora seemed to find the retelling acceptable and accurate, nodding along solemnly. The others just looked resigned. America preened beneath her compliments, ego multiplying by a thousand. He still had the awareness to commend her in return, however.

“You did awesome too. The way you took out that pack of Beowolves all at once with your scythe… so cool! You were a real hero.” From America, that was saying a lot.

Ruby brightened beneath the praise. “It’s all thanks to my baby.” She took the red metal rectangle-ish shape— _Her weapon._ — off her back and cradled it. “This is Crescent Rose. She’s a high-caliber sniper-scythe and she’s the best weapon ever!”

She transformed the weapon. Canada sweat dropped and stepped away from the _big-freaking-scythe_ the short girl was showing off. Ruby froze, uncertainty crossing her youthful features, but her nervousness vanished when America _squealed_.

“So. _Cool!_ Does it become a war scythe too? How quickly can you fire rounds? What Dust cartridges do you use? Oh, wait. I should tell you about mine.”  He unsheathed his bat with a flourish. “This is Cobalt Striker. She’s a pump-action shotgun bayonet-bat.”

Ruby’s silver eyes shone. “Show me!”

America revealed the different transformations of his weapon, and she showed him hers in return, both chatting away and seeming to completely forget about their company. Canada and the rest of the group— minus the black-haired Faunus girl, who was reading— watched them in disbelief.

“Oh Gods, there’s two of them!” Yang— another easy name— wailed. “It must be contagious. Blake, save yourself!”

Blake flipped a page in her book without looking up. Ruby kicked her sister in the shin. Even though it should not hurt because of her Aura, Yang hopped around on one foot and gasped overdramatically. She soon dropped the act when she noticed a majority of her friends looking skyward— the white-haired girl— or ignoring her— in the case of Black. No, Blank. Blouse?

_Yang just said her name!_ _I should remember._ _Crap._

“I’m sorry, but we need to get going.” The red-haired girl who had been lingering in the back and not drawing attention to herself said. Canada understood the feeling. To his surprise, he noticed she was looking at him when she talked. She smiled softly. “We have classes to attend.”

Canada spoke up, voice quiet. “It’s all right. Don’t worry about it, uh…” What was her name? “…Patricia.”

Only America, the red-haired girl, and the black-haired Faunus girl seemed to notice he’d spoken. The Faunus girl looked confused while the red-haired girl looked startled and… pleased?

_Maybe I actually got her name right!_ Canada thought happily.

“Awww. Can’t we skip?” Numa— Nova— Nana— _Damn it_ — said.

“Professor Goodwitch would kill us.” the green-clothed boy said solemnly.

Apparently the threat was notable because every one of them shuddered, even Yang and Noela.

“It was nice meeting you.” Ruby said. “Maybe you guys will be in the same classes as us.”

“Maybe.” America said with a smile. “See you later.”

They parted ways, with the teams heading to class while the twins walked to Ozpin’s office.

“…They seemed nice.” America commented.

“I suppose.” Canada touched the hilt of Maple Frost, reassured by the familiar weight on his back. “You got along with Ruby pretty well.”

“Yeah, I did.” America said happily. “She wants to be a hero.”

“Oh really?” his twin asked. “How do you know that?”

His brother paused, then shrugged. “I don’t know. I can just tell. It’s cool that I found someone to geek out with about weapons.  Maybe she’ll like comic books, too!”

A tight feeling settled in Canada’s throat. “…You shouldn’t get attached.” He said softly. “Remember Francis and Jeanne? And… Davie?”

He did not want to say it, but it needed to be brought up. They were nations. Human lives were a blip in time compared to theirs. That did not alleviate his guilt when America’s cheerful mood faded, leaving behind the shadows of long-lost friends and heartbreaking sorrows.

“I know.” He shook himself and gave a Hollywood smile. Canada suspected it was forced. “Come on. Let’s go meet the Wizard of Oz!”

XXXXXXX

“They seemed nice.” Jaune commented as Teams RWBY and JNPR headed towards Professor Goodwitch’s sparring classroom.

They still had a few minutes to waste before the bell rang, but Weiss insisted that they reach the room early. Something about ‘being punctual’ and ‘avoiding being sidetracked’. Between Yang, Nora, and the excitable Ruby, Blake understood her teammate’s desire to avoid any more potential distractions that would result in their tardiness. Professor Goodwitch was _scary_ when people were late to her class. Though she was also scary a majority of the time by default.

“I agree. Alfred and Matthew seem to be quite friendly.” Pyrrha said.

“Anyone who can get little Rubes out of her shell is cool in my book.” Yang said, giving the Big Sister Seal of Approval.

‘Little Rubes’ did a double-take at her words. “Huh?”

The blonde-haired Huntress smirked teasingly. “You’re still socially awkward and weird, sis. Alfred hardly even blinked when you almost slammed into him at high speeds.”

“Don’t remind me…” Ruby moaned.

Yang’s evil grin told Blake that there would be much reminding and teasing about the encounter in the near future.

Ruby perked up. “Do you think they’ll finish their introduction with Professor Ozpin fast enough to come watch our sparring class?”

Blake shook her head slowly. Poor, naïve leader. She did not seem to realize how much she had just set herself up.

Yang smirked triumphantly. “I don’t know. Why Rubes? You want to impress your boyfriend?”

Predictably, the girl turned beet red. “He’s _not_ my boyfriend!”

“But he likes weapons as much as you do.” Yang crooned. “And he’s tall and handsome and has those _gorgeous_ sky-blue eyes…” She fluttered her eyelashes, barely keeping from cracking up.

Ruby’s nose wrinkled in adorable anger. Then her expression grew sly. “Does that mean you approve of me getting a boyfriend?” she asked ‘innocently’.

“Hell no.” Yang stated flatly, eyes flashing red. “If you ever date someone, first they’re going to have to spend some quality time with Ember Cecelia.” She cracked her knuckles.

“Do you think they’re twins? Alfred and Matthew, I mean?” Jaune asked, bringing the conversation back to the new students.

“It looked like they were. I wouldn’t be able to tell them apart if not for their haircuts, clothes, and eyes.” Weiss admitted. “And their personalities. They were like night and day. Alfred was so…” Her eyes flicked from her partner, to Nora, to Yang. Her nose wrinkled. “… _excitable_.”

“What did you think of Matthew?” Pyrrha questioned.

“He’s quiet.” The Heiress mentioned. “It seems like he prefers to keep to himself.”

“Ooo! Like Renny and Blake!” Nora shouted.

Weiss frowned disapprovingly at her volume. “…Yes. Either way, they seem like good allies to have. Especially with Ozpin admitting them to Beacon now of all times. They must be special.”

“Really, Weiss? _‘Allies’?_ ” Yang asked sarcastically.  “There’s this thing called ‘friendship’. Have you ever heard of it?”

Blue eyes shrank to slits. “I just meant that it would be beneficial to assess the strength of our fellow students compared to our own so that we know if we can rely on them to assist us in battle. After what happened yesterday…”

She trailed off and a heavy shadow seemed to fall over her and Yang. Blake withheld a wince. Yesterday on the train, Weiss and Yang almost died. Weiss had been momentarily knocked out by the White Fang Lieutenant and Yang had definitely been knocked unconscious by that pink and brown-haired girl. They were almost _killed_.

Weiss’ survival was mostly due to luck, and no one understood how or why the girl failed to kill Yang. It was unsettling, that she had almost lost two of her teammates in one day. And when adding those losses to their failure to stop the train…

“We need to become better at fighting.” Weiss said firmly. “I know Torchwick was stopped and arrested, but we still need to practice. The Vytal Festival is coming up next month. We’ll be fighting people, not Grimm. Sure, it’s merely a tournament, but I have _no_ intention of losing like that again.”

“I agree.” Yang said, eyes burning.

“But Huntsmen aren’t supposed to fight people all the time. We’re supposed to fight Grimm.” Ruby said innocently.

Blake and Weiss exchanged a knowing look. Ruby had fought the White Fang as well, but she did not struggle like the other three girls did. She had Professor Oobleck at her side and Zwei, and mostly fought large Paladins instead of individuals. The Faunus had the feeling her leader did not truly understand that no, Huntsmen did not fight people as rarely as she thought, and apparently Weiss agreed. The black-haired girl was left to explain. Kind of. Not really.

“That may be true, but I think working on our player versus player fighting skills will help us in other areas. That’s why we have sparring matches in the first place.”

“I guess so.” Ruby said with a shrug. “Maybe we should ask Alfred and Matthew for advice. You guys didn’t see it, but they really _were_ awesome during that fight with the Grimm. I don’t know who taught them but they’re really good. They were taking out Ursas and Deathstalkers with _one_ blow. Plus they probably won’t be in the tournament so they won’t use learn our secret techniques!” Her eyes blazed at the thought.

_That’s… actually a really good idea._ Blake’s lips twitched into an approving smile.

“Can we go too?” Nora interjected hopefully.

“We don’t even know if they’ll agree yet.” Pyrrha said calmly. She adopted a thoughtful look. “But their circumstances do suggest that they are truly skilled and could provide insight…”

“Of course you guys can come. We’re friends.” Ruby said like the answer was obvious.

To her, it was. Weiss’s unhappy frown suggested she was not similarly pleased. Blake hoped the tournament and the fact that they might have to fight their friends would not go to the Heiress’s head.

“Then it’s a date!” Jaune said.

Yang mock-growled, fist rising threateningly.

Jaune yelped, putting his hands up. “ _Not that kind of date!_ ”

Blake joined in with the laughter, which immediately cut off as they entered the room. Professor Goodwitch stared at them with icy green eyes, tapping her left foot. Her riding crop was in her right hand.

“Teams RWBY and JNPR.” She said coolly. “You’re late.”

A majority of the tardy students looked at the time, looked back at the teacher, and paled dramatically. Blake considered using her Semblance to sneak away, but knew the punishment would be worse if she ran. Professor Goodwitch whacked the riding crop against her other hand, voice icy, loud, and clear.

“Since you are all so happy to be here, you get to spend more time with me. In detention.”

They dared not to groan. Or complain. Or even blink.

Instead the eight sheepishly went to their seats as the Professor finally turned her death glare away, beginning that day’s lesson.

“Today we will be working on battling with a partner…”

XXXXXXX

_Ice shot through his veins. It tore through his limbs, settling in his stomach and chest and tearing him apart from the inside, piece by piece. He screamed and screamed and screamed until his voice failed, but the people outside of his metal coffin did not raise a finger to help him. Instead apathetic eyes watched as he writhed, Aura rippling over his shuddering frame as his body tried to reject the alien substance they were forcing inside it._

_And so, even without a voice, he howled in agony._

_No one came to save him._

_No one._

_But someone did?_

_His brother came._

_His brother saved him._

_Didn’t he?_

_He must have._

_They were in the lab._

_Then they were out._

_He did not remember how they got out._

_Running, stumbling, tripping over tree roots, feet cold and skin icy from fallen snow._

_His brother had been injured— During the escape? His fault, should have fought harder, should have been faster, should have stopped this— and was lagging behind, but he stumbled on determinedly, refusing to slow. Their enemies were close, their lights flashing through the darkness and fog and silence and snow, and he wondered if they could hear his pounding heartbeat. His brother noticed his fear._

_“It’s okay.” His brother said. “We’re going to make it. We’re almost free. They won’t get us again. Just keep moving.”_

_So they did._

_They hid in the storms and fled through ice and snow._

_They stowed away in a merchant boat and fled over water and waves._

_They crept amongst the trees and fled over tree roots and earth._

_They ran and ran and ran._

_Their enemies still caught up to them, emerging from the darkness._

_They did not care what they destroyed. They did not care who they hurt. They just followed, and hunted, and watched with soulless, mechanical eyes as everything around them **burned** —_

Canada woke with a gasp. He took in his surroundings, heart in his throat, only to calm as he recognized his and America’s room at Beacon. The violet-eyed nation looked to his brother’s bed, further reassured when he saw him sleeping on his side. As if he felt his twin’s eyes on him, America gave a low mumble, turning over.

“’re you ‘wake, Mattie…?” he murmured.

“Yes.” Canada said briefly.

Blue eyes opened slightly wider. “Nightmare?”

The violet-eyed nation looked away.

“…I have them too.” America admitted. “I have been for a while now. I haven’t been sleeping well since we got to Vale.”

Canada’s shoulders tensed.

America’s voice grew softer. “You can talk to me, you know.”

Canada gripped his sheets. “It’s nothing. It’s just from the stress of arriving at Beacon. I haven’t had a nightmare before this. Just try to sleep. We have classes tomorrow.”

America was silent for a long time. Canada would have thought he had fallen asleep again but his breathing was too agitated.

“…Love you, bro.”

Canada closed his eyes. “Love you too, little brother.”

America gave an amused huff and settled down, apparently drifting off. Canada did not return to sleep. Rather, he stayed awake, staring at the ceiling and watching the shadows shift on the plaster. He belatedly realized he should have offered to listen to his brother talk about his nightmares, but then he would be expected to share his own in return.

He could not do that. Not if those nightmares were what he feared they were: Flashes of missing memories. Triggered by the breach? Or the helpless, trapped feeling inside that he hoped he could continue to hide? America was so happy in Beacon. He loved Remnant, its people, and all its adventures and technological marvels.

Including the Atlesian Knights.

He couldn’t take away that awe. He couldn’t replace it with paranoia and fear. It was selfish of him, stupidly so, but he could not share what he was certain was some of his memories. But now, all Canada’s unease and wariness of everything to do with Remnant made a hell of a lot more sense than it did before.

How could Canada tell America that he suspected Atlas was responsible for not only their captivity, torture, and missing days, but the destruction of the town of Westwind as well?

XXXXXXX

Ozpin stayed in his office long after his newest students left, drinking coffee and looking out at the moon. It was nice to see the twins were already settling in so well. It was mere coincidence that made them meet Teams RWBY and JNPR first, but a coincidence Ozpin was happy to observe. Alfred had interacted seamlessly with the other students, showing kindness and alleviating young Ruby Rose’s fears whether he realized it or not.

Being accepted into Beacon so early had brought some strife onto the fifteen year-old— though not as much as there could have been thanks to her sister’s presence. It was heartwarming to see a young man take part in her interests and compliment her so genuinely. Ruby would be a great Huntress one day. It was gratifying that someone else could see it.

Indeed, Alfred had made friends and connections with Beacon’s greatest potentials quickly, seeming to adapt to his new situation with eagerness and excitement. Mattew, on the other hand, was another story. As Ozpin had watched the twins approach, it was obvious that the violet-eyed brother did not want to be there. He looked at Beacon not with hope or awe, but trepidation and unease.

_Why?_

Ozpin did not know. Perhaps one of the many secrets he knew the boys kept held the answers. Only time and patience would let the Headmaster find out. Still, the conversation he overheard between them made him even more curious.

The Wizard of Oz. A coincidental phrase? Or true knowledge of tales lost to time?

If his theory was correct, maybe a bit of both. He could find out later. For now, the twins were settling in, and Ozpin had another set of questions and theories to keep him up at night. He hoped his suspicions were wrong. If they were in fact true, those boys might not survive long enough to reach their potential.

And that would truly be a shame.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That last line was a bit more ominous than I intended. Oops?
> 
> For some reason I gave Canada my inability to remember names right after I’m told them. Maybe because he can’t remember Kumajirou’s? IDK. XD
> 
> Please comment. Let me know what you think.


	6. First Day

“RISE AND SHINE, BRO!”

Canada woke to the sound of his brother’s cackling and the nice, hard floor. America kept sniggering as his twin hit the wood with a thud and a shriek, dashing off before Canada could enact vengeance with a thrown pillow.

The violet-eyed nation stayed on the floor, blinking sleep from his eyes, and whined before pulling his blanket over his head. He heard his brother get into the shower and considered getting up to flush the toilet and hopefully douse America with icy water. That would involve getting off the floor, however, which was too much effort this early.

Canada snuggled under the blankets, mumbling vague threats at the empty air, and drifted off again. Too quickly, America finished his shower and came back to make Canada’s life Hell, dragging him off the comfy floor and dumping him in the bathroom.

“Shower.” His evil twin commanded and left.

By the time Canada was done, America was already dressed. Canada spotted the steaming Styrofoam cups in his hands and instantly forgave his brother for his earlier transgressions. The violet-eyed nation took the coffee happily and gulped it down, perking up in an instant.

America snorted. “I think you have a problem.”

Canada ignored him, mood much happier now that he had caffeine. “Where did you get this? The dining hall?”

America shook his head. “They didn’t have any. I got this from the teacher’s lounge.”

Canada’s cheerful mood tried to dim but he did not let it. He had coffee, so he was not going to become stressed. “You can’t find _any_ of the classrooms and could barely locate our dorm room but you already found the teacher’s lounge?”

“Yup.” America chirped. “ _And_ the dining hall.”

Canada took a long swig of nice, hot coffee. “You’re hopeless.”

America stuck his tongue out at him. “Says the guy who can’t remember anyone’s name.”

“I can!” Canada claimed.

His brother gestured for him to prove it, smirking knowingly.

“W-Well… There’s Ruby, Yang. Uh… Numa?” America’s grin grew. “Jean?” His brother showed teeth. “…Blush?”

America burst out laughing. Canada turned red and smacked his brother with his pillow. America darted out of range, cackling mercilessly.

“Ruby, Weiss, Blake, Yang, Jaune, Nora, Pyrrha, and Ren.” America said. His eyes twinkled with mirth. “Try to remember, okay? I’ll give you a chocolate chip cookie if you do.”

Canada gave his brother an unimpressed glare. “I hate you.”

“Love ya too, bro.” America said cheerfully.

There was a knock on the door. Gulping down the last of his coffee and throwing away the evidence, America opened the door. His wary expression fell away and he grinned.

“Hi, guys! What are you doing here?”

The entirety of Team RWBY was outside their door. Yang was yawning in the background, while Ruby waved from behind Weiss. Canada tipped his head and noticed Blake over to the side, reading a book. The white-haired member of the group looked surprised by their prompt response and lack of procrastination, but shook herself and crossed her arms.

“We were going to come wake you but I guess that was unneeded.” Weiss said. She glanced sidelong at her blond-haired teammate. “It’s nice to see _someone_ is capable of getting up on time.”

Yang emitted a low, garbled sound that couldn’t be called human speech by any definition of the word.

America glanced her way and chuckled before looking back at Weiss. “I’m a morning person but Mattie sleeps like the dead. I’m used to having to get him up in order to get to places on time. Thanks for thinking of us though.”

“You’re welcome.” She said primly. Then her eyes narrowed. “Why aren’t either of you dressed?”

America looked at his outfit, which consisted of his usual jeans, blue t-shirt, and black jacket. Canada has his normal jeans and red hoodie on as well, and even some nice new sneakers he had just recently bought.

“I am dressed?” America said, his uncertainty turning the statement into a question.

“The Headmaster said we don’t have to wear uniforms.” Canada explained.

Yang snapped awake at his words and stared at him like he’d just admitted he despised puns. “That is super not fair! That’s— That’s favoritism!”

“Shade Academy students don’t have to wear uniforms either.” Blake pointed out.

The blonde-haired Huntress turned on the Faunus. “That’s not the same! Why do we have to wear these things and they don’t?” She gave her shirt an irritated tug.

“They will once they officially start Beacon, Xiao Long.” Weiss said, unwilling to deal with her teammate’s dramatics at the moment.

She studied the twins’ outfits more thoroughly, nose scrunching with distaste at their fashion choices. It was like they were meant to go to an important political event instead of a mere class and she could not help but shudder at their casual attire. Canada didn’t care about making impressions, not that he’d ever voice his opinion. He liked his head where it was, thank you.

Done with her disapproval-filled inspection, Weiss frowned. “Why do you have your weapons with you? We only bring them to Professor Goodwitch’s class and on trips. Didn’t they tell you?”

America frowned, shifting his weight and tapping his chin. “They might have mentioned it…”

“But what if we’re attacked?” Canada blurted.

He’d grown so used to having Maple Frost with him that its absence was unnerving. America was looking at him with those concerned blue eyes again, while Blake was observing him with a neutral expression. Wonderful.

“Then we can summon them using our Scrolls.” Ruby responded like Canada’s paranoia was completely normal. “You have ones, right?”

“Yeah, Ozpin gave us Scrolls.” America said. He glanced at the clock. “I guess we should put these in our lockers before we get breakfast.”

They did exactly that, hurrying so they could beat the crowds. They did not quite make it, for many of the seats were already full but Canada saw Team JNPR had saved spots for them. The twins and RWBY quickly got some food and sat down at the table with the other team, who greeted them warmly.

America had toast, eggs, bacon, and sausage. Canada had pancakes and syrup— which Nora was eying hungrily. The violet-eyed nation subtly moved his plate closer to him, meeting her stare warningly. He was usually more passive, but these were _pancakes_ and _syrup_. Not Canadian, but still. One did not simply let others eye them without warning them not to try.

_Mine._

“So… what class is first?” America asked the person across from him, who happened to be the Pyrrha.

She gave him a kind smile. “History.”

“Cool!” America cheered. “I _love_ history!”

“No you don’t.” Canada said flatly.

“Do too.” America denied, sticking his tongue out at his brother.

“Do not. You only like _your_ h— own c-country’s history. Not world history.” Canada hoped no one noticed his strange phrasing. He’d almost said ‘your history’, which would be suspiciously self-centered even for Alfred.

America pouted and grabbed some bacon. “I do too know Remnant’s history! I’ll prove it!”

Canada’s eye twitched at the thought. He could picture it now. America standing in front of the class, saying how they should build a gigantic robot to protect the planet from Grimm— which definitely came from the shattered moon— and how it totally happened in the past so they should try it again. Or they could create a superhero called 'Hunts Man'...

“Please don’t.”

America huffed at his tone. “That’s cold, bro.”

Canada leaned forward, tone becoming persuasive. “If you don’t talk for the whole class, I will give you five hamburgers.”

“A bet? Really? You don’t want me to answer questions that badly?” America thought about it. “Make it seven and you have a deal.”

They shook on it.

After finishing breakfast, they joined RWBY and JNPR in history, thankfully finding seats with the only people they knew. Canada sat between America and Blake, who seemed content to not start up a conversation and merely sit in amicable silence. The violet-eyed twin was glad. He was not certain he could handle being stuck between America and someone like Yang or Nora.

The teacher— Doctor Oobleck, the little plaque on his desk said— was literally zooming around the room, writing on the board before stopping in front of his students. If Canada did not know any better, he’d swear the man was gliding without moving his legs. Weird.

“Hello class! Welcome to history!” Doctor Oobleck greeted them rapidly, words melding together into a nearly indecipherable blur.

Having talked to an America on chocolate, coffee, energy drinks, and who-knew what else many times before, Canada had no trouble keeping up. The blank expressions on the faces of many of the other students told him he was one of the few that could.

“Today, we are going to talk about the Great War.” His gaze moved over the variety of uniforms in the crowd. “I know this is can be quite the heated subject, but I hope we all can have a mature discussion about it. No shouting, no insults. Just statements and facts.” Oobleck zipped to his desk by the board, planting his hands on the wood. “Now, what led up to the first battle of the war?”

No one raised their hand.

The doctor looked disappointed. “Anyone? Anyone know this at all?”

The silence remained. Canada saw America wiggling in his seat, lips pressed together. Oh, _Maple_ , he was probably going to say something stupid and draw attention to the twins—

“There were high tensions between the Kingdoms because Mistral and Mantle were suppressing freedom of expression.” Canada blurted. He turned red when everyone looked at him, sliding down in his seat. “T-They, um…”

Everyone was staring. Even America, who was looking at him with a furrowed brow.

Oobleck smiled at Canada encouragingly. “Matthew, is it?” The Canadian nodded. “You can continue. Go on.”

Not happy to be the center of attention— Maple, this was worse than when nations got angry at the World Conference or mistook him for America— Canada kept speaking. “Vale didn’t like what Mistral and Mantle were doing to their people and Mistral and Mantle thought their way of living was one everyone else should adopt.” He tried not to notice the glares he was getting from some of the Haven and Atlas Academy students and kept speaking. “So when some settlers from Vale and Mistral tried to settle in the same area on Sanus, eventually a riot broke out and they fought each other.”

“That is correct.” Oobleck said, pleased. “Other than battles, what caused the greatest amount of casualties during the wars?”

No one raised their hands. Oobleck sighed and looked hopefully at Canada. The polite nation’s desire to please him overcame his desire to sink into the floor.

“The Grimm caused the most deaths, and many of those deaths were nowhere near battles. The warriors were fighting the war so the Grimm came to the unprotected cities in droves.” Canada said. “People were so busy killing each other that they left the civilians behind to get overrun by Grimm and die.”

Many of the students around him shifted uncomfortably. Canada didn’t care anymore. It was a habit of historians and countries to make their ancestors seem like heroes who did nothing wrong, but war was not like that. Every country made mistakes and had the blood of innocents on their hands and hidden skeletons in their closets.

Even America knew and understood that he’d done terrible things. However, he did not deny them. He faced his choices and the choices of his people, accepted the ugly side of his past with open eyes, and looked to the future to try to become a true hero. These children needed to learn that the world was not black and white and that mistakes had been made in the past. Otherwise, they would be doomed to repeat them.

“A brutal description but also an accurate one.” Oobleck said gravely as he pushed his glasses up his nose. “Indeed, that is why the Vytal Festival is so important. Because humanity fought each other, it forgot what it fought _for_ and nearly destroyed itself. Division is our weakness, while unity is our strength. Now the Kingdoms work together against our true enemy: the Grimm.”

He abruptly zipped around the room, dropping papers in front of them. “I had intended to save this for a later date, but since so many of you are so knowledgeable of this time period, I’m certain you’ll have no trouble filling out this answer sheet about the Great War. You may leave once you’re finished.”

A majority of the class groaned and pulled out their textbooks. Canada kept his head down and silently filled out his sheet. He finished it within minutes and looked around to see everyone else was still working. Maple. He wanted to leave and go to the library to see if they had anything about crossing worlds, but if he left first…

“Done!” America chirped, making his brother jump. “Are you finished too? Great! We can hand them in together then.”

Canada nodded, relieved, and followed his brother to the front. Oobleck looked slightly surprised that both twins were already finished, but after scanning their answers and finding them adequate, he smiled.

“It seems you both have an appreciation for history. Good. You may leave if you’d like.”

“Yes!” America crowed. He dashed out the door to the envy of the other students.

Canada dithered and gave Professor Oobleck a nervous smile. “Thank you, sir.”

He hurriedly walked after his brother. America was waiting in the hall for him, stretching his arms over his head.

“That wasn’t so bad.” He commented. “History seems pretty cool. We have forty minutes until Grimm Studies, right?”

“That’s correct.” Canada confirmed. “That should be enough time to go to the library for a bit.”

America frowned. “Why would we go—? Oh, right.”

They tried to find the library, only to realize they had no idea where it was. Instead they wandered, with Canada desperately hoping they would be able to find their Grimm Studies class on time. It would be awful if they were late on their first day.

“So how did you know so much about the Great War?” America asked eventually.

Canada twitched, expression settling into a frown. “I don’t know. How did you?”

His brother sighed. “…I don’t know.” They turned a corner to find they were back where they started. “This is _really_ getting annoying.”

Canada did not know if he was talking about their lacking sense of direction or their strange bursts of knowledge. He hummed in agreement and watched as more students trickled out of the classroom. A few looked his way and he resisted the urge to hide behind his brother, not pleased with the glares he was receiving. They didn’t blame _him_ for the assignment, did they?

_They’re teenagers. Of course they do._

America nudged him, distracting him from the stares. “Hey, bro. So when do I get my hamburgers?”

Canada stared at him in befuddlement before recalling their bet. He smiled. “You talked when we handed in our papers.”

America opened his mouth, froze, and adopted a horrified expression. “B-But…”

Canada’s conscience got the best of him and he sighed. “…I suppose it was only to inform me you were finished, eh. It’s close enough. I’ll get you six hamburgers.”

His twin cheered and hugged him. “Yay! You’re the best big brother ever!”

“You admit I’m older then?” Canada asked innocently.

America frowned, then shrugged and kept squeezing the air from his brother’s lungs. “Only by three days.” Team RWBY and JNPR emerged from the classroom at last and he brightened further. “Come on. We can ask them where the library is!”

Canada held his brother back, shaking his head. “It’s too late. We have to go to Grimm Studies.”

“Aw. That sucks. Sorry, Mattie.” America sighed in disappointment, but quickly returned to his chipper mood. “Still, Grimm Studies! That class sounds awesome! I bet the teacher is going to tell us about so many cool things about Grimm!”

XXXXXXX

Students staggered out of Professor Port’s class in varying degrees of shock and disbelief. Ruby was among them, mind fogged and thoughts moving at the pace of a snail as her brain tried to reboot and recover. It did not take long, for her poor veteran mind was used to the trauma. The new students, however, were not so lucky. In hindsight, maybe they should have warned Alfred and Matthew about Port’s… Portness.

“That was Hell.” Alfred groaned as he stumbled down the hall like a zombie. “I think I died in there.”

“It wasn’t that bad.” Matthew said diplomatically.

His twin turned on him, blue eyes wild. “Stories. So many _stories_.”

Matthew hesitated. “They were… interesting?”

“Weird flirting. Bad jokes.” Alfred whined.

“Some were kind of funny.” Matthew muttered.

Alfred grabbed his twin’s shoulders. “The bust. Of _himself_.”

Matthew winced and tried to wiggle free. His brother did not release him, instead muttering under his breath about keeping Beowolves as pets and fake heroes and stupid stories and he wasn’t _that_ bad, right Mattie? He wasn’t that boring or crazy when he talked, right Mattie? _Right Mattie?_

Yang rescued poor Matthew by peeling Alfred’s fingers off of him. “Calm down, Sky-Eyes. Let’s not lose our sanity over Port, ‘kay?”

Alfred blinked, startled out of his deteriorating mental state. “What did you just call me?”

“Sky-Eyes.” Yang said shamelessly. “It’s like sky blue and four-eyes _together_. Come on, don’t make me explain it. Eh, _eh?_ ”

She looked at them expectantly. No one appreciated the possible pun.

Alfred moved the conversation back to Port. “I don’t think I learned _anything_ about Grimm. I did learn a lot more about Port than I ever wanted to. I think he’s more ego-centric than Gilbert.”

“No one is more ego-centric than Gilbert.” Matthew denied.

“Who is Gilbert?” Jaune asked.

The others listened in as well, interested to learn anything they could about their new friends. Matthew and Alfred looked at each other, seemingly communicating silently. Were they really? They _were_ twins. Didn’t being twins have a special bond with each other that allowed them to speak telepathically? That was so cool! Yang didn’t think that was possible but Ruby knew it definitely was. If Alfred and Matthew could do it they’d prove Yang wrong and Ruby right.

_Point for the younger sibling!_

“You answer. You know him better than me.” Matthew said aloud. He settled back, content to let his brother speak.

Alfred grinned at his fellow students. “Gilbert was my mentor for a bit. He taught me how to use the bayonet and how to be a better fighter in general. He’s more of a friend now, but back then he was my trainer from hell!”

“Isn’t a bayonet just used to stab though?” Weiss asked dismissively. “Any farmhand country bumpkin can use one.”

She froze as intense blue eyes pinned her.

“You take that back.” Alfred said flatly.

Weiss seemed to have lost her voice.

“Sooo. Why are you comparing him to Port, then?” Ruby asked, saving her partner.

Alfred relaxed and chuckled. “Because Gilbert’s ego is bigger than the moon. He’s a bit of a braggart— and coming from me that saying something. He refers to himself as ‘the awesome me’, and always talks about his glory days. He’s not that old but he isn’t a— a Huntsman anymore.”

Something in the way he avoided their gazes, fists clenching and eyes going dark, made a bundle of unease settle in Ruby’s gut. The use of present tense meant that the mysterious man was still alive, but for him to no longer be a Huntsman…

Pyrrha dared to ask the question they were all thinking. “Was he… crippled?”

Alfred gave a low, humorless chuckle. “You could say that.” He took a breath and smiled vibrantly. “So. Lunch is next isn’t it? Do they have hamburgers?”

Even Ruby noticed the unsubtle subject change. She knew better than to mention it. “Yeah, they do. We have time to get them now, if you want.”

“Yes!” Alfred cheered. He turned and pointed at his brother. “Just so you know, these don’t count towards what you owe me.”

Matthew sighed but his lips twitched. “Of course not. Lead the way.”

Ruby followed obediently as Alfred led their party to the dining hall, seeming to cast the conversation from his mind. But she would not forget.

Ruby was not the most observant person, but she could tell that Alfred and Matthew weren’t like her or Jaune or even Weiss and Yang. They— especially Matthew— were like Blake. They were used to fighting and running to survive. It was obvious in the way they moved. Uncle Qrow had taught her to notice such things, and she noticed they never relaxed.

Ruby had not asked yet, but she was certain they were from outside the Kingdoms, or had been until recently. What had they gone through? Why was Matthew so scared and sad? How many people did they lose? How many did they watch die?

Did one of their parents leave on a mission and never come back like her mom?

The twins had a past. Everyone did, of course, but their past was more along the lines of Blake’s. Not specifically criminal, but dark and scary and secretive. Blake’s past almost hurt her when she kept it to herself. It came back to haunt her, and Team RWBY was completely unprepared when it did because they didn’t know what it was. Then her past had become more than history with the plans of the White Fang, and that past was suddenly greatly involved in the present.

Ruby did not want to let that to happen again. She did not want her friends to carry secrets that burdened them so greatly they could not move on, or have those secrets break into the open at the worst possible time. So she needed to find out those secrets. She needed to in order to help them. She wanted to make things better. She wanted them to trust her. She wanted to make them happy. Most of all, she wanted them to know they were _safe_.

Helping friends. It was what a good Huntress would do.


	7. Suspicions

“No! It can’t be! It’s impossible!” Yang wailed.

“I can’t believe it…” Ruby whispered, eyes wide with shock.

An evil grin stretched across Weiss’s face.

Blake kept reading her book.

“Sorry.” Canada murmured. “I’m just good at strategy.”

He had done it.

He had proven them all wrong.

He had decimated his enemies and conquered the world… in Remnant: The Game.

A week and a half had passed since Canada and America arrived at Beacon, and once again the twins were adapting to their new lives. They went through lectures, learned history and how to recover from Port’s… _interesting_ lessons, and were gradually adjusting to being students at an Academy for Huntsmen. It was not as frustrating as Canada had feared it would be. It wasn’t too dull— except for Port’s class— he had people to call friends, and the twins had managed to avoid most of the melodrama that usually came with high school settings.

Well, some guy named Cardin Winchester had tried to bully the quiet and unassuming Matthew Williams, only to target the wrong twin. It should be obvious who was who— they had different haircuts and eyes _and_ clothes for God’s sake— but Cardin was not known for his observation skills.

It was nice for America to be mistaken for Canada for once, especially since Cardin failed to shove the strong nation into his locker and instead got an elbow to the nose for his troubles. It appeared to be an accident and witnesses supported Alfred and claimed it was, so no detention was given, but Canada knew his brother had more control than that. Still, he wouldn’t complain. Cardin hadn’t tried anything else since.

Between classes and social expectations from their friends— it felt so weird to call so many humans that— the twins had not had as much time to look for answers as they’d hoped. When they did have time, their trips to the school’s library had been as unfruitful as their trips to the public one. Canada was beginning to think that if there was information about traveling to different worlds and mysterious memory loss, it was in a government safe somewhere.

Reluctantly, the two nations put their search on hold. With nothing better to do on a free night, the twins had been coaxed into hanging out with their fellow students, who had made sure to involve their new friends in many of their activities. They went to Team Juniper’s room to just have fun without the underlying stress of politics or diplomacy or _anything_ hanging over their heads. To their friends, they were just two fellow human teens, nothing more. It was yet another strange and unusual experience for the nations. Which led to now.

Yang slammed her hands on the tabletop, sending a few game pieces flying. “I _lost?_ How did I lose? I _never_ lose!”

Canada shrugged helplessly, unsure of what to say other than another “Sorry.”

The girl laid her head on the table, emitting an aura of misery. “I don’t understand! I _just_ taught you how to play. You were more clueless then Weiss.”

“Hey!”

Yang ignored the Heiress, gripping at her hair. “I had the world within my grasp. I was going to be Queen of the Empire of Remnant and all would love my puns. This isn’t fair…”

“Yes it is. This is fair. This is _justice_.” Ruby hissed fervently.

Yang raised her head and glared. “Is that how you truly feel, sis?”

“Yes, it is!” Ruby challenged. “You always pull a move that wipes out my army when victory is within my grasp. Now it’s your turn to see how it feels!”

Weiss nodded furiously at her side.

Yang pouted at them, then turned to Blake, violet eyes wide and pleading. “You feel sorry for my loss, don’t you dear partner of mine? Isn’t his _underhanded_ win—” She jabbed a finger at Canada, who raised his hands defensively. “— totally unfair?”

Blake didn’t look up and flipped to the next page of her book. “I agree…”

Yang beamed.

“…with Ruby.”

The blonde-haired girl gasped. “Traitor! My whole team has turned against me. Sky-Eyes!”

America looked up from where he was playing a fighting game with Ren while Nora watched. “Yeah?”

“You are now on my side against your brother.” Yang proclaimed.

America’s eyes returned to the screen and he calmly ignored Nora’s attempts to sabotage him by prodding the back of his head. “Why?”

“My allies have turned traitor in favor of your evil twin.” Yang said dramatically. “It is only fair that I steal his brother in return.”

America knocked out Ren’s character, prompting a ‘Soaring Ninja wins!’ from the game. “I think I’ll pass.”

“I will buy you a _dozen_ hamburgers.” Yang cajoled.

“Best two out of three?” Ren requested as he reset the game.

“Why not?” America said to him before replying to Yang. “Nah. I’ll never abandon my brother. Not even for all the hamburgers in the world.”

Canada smiled. “You care about me more than junk food? Aww, thank you.”

Yang stared at him in disbelief before transferring her pleading violet eyes to Jaune and Pyrrha, who were reading a comic book. The blond-haired knight stopped pointing at something on the page and put his hands in the air.

“Team Juniper is officially neutral in this war.”

Yang huffed. “Does all of Team Juniper agree to that?”

Ren ignored her. Nora reached around America and tried to grab his controller, an act that did little to distract the focused nation.

Pyrrha smiled apologetically at the blonde-haired Huntress. “I defer to my leader’s choice.”

Canada nodded her way. “Thanks, Pepper.”

“Her name’s _Pyrrha_!” Weiss snapped, annoyed by his mistake. “Get it right!”

She did not appear to notice that Pyrrha’s smile looked happier. “It’s fine.”

Pyrrha was a little weird. She was not shy but tried to avoid drawing attention to herself. She also looked surprised and smiled whenever America or Canada spoke to her, like she wasn’t used to being approached so openly— or with such well-meaning and genuinely friendly intentions? Even more oddly, she looked especially happy whenever Canada called her by the wrong name. Maybe she really disliked her normal name? Pyrrha was like ‘Pyrrhic Victory’ after all, which wasn’t the most light-hearted or hopeful moniker to have.

The violet-eyed nation had discussed the matter with America in private, and his brother had taken to calling the red-haired student ‘Dudette’ or ‘Py-Py’ instead. Pyrrha did not seem to mind, but she also didn’t know that ‘Py-Py’ sounded a lot like Popeye, which meant the nickname might just be a reference on America’s part. If his brother offered her spinach or asked if she wanted to be a sailor, Canada was going to smack him upside the head.

Canada had asked his brother why he had not gone for the obvious nickname ‘Pyr’, and shockingly received a logical answer he understood. And that made him uncomfortable.

“It sounds like ‘Pyre’.” was all America said.

Canada had left it at that.

“Are you sure that was your first time playing?” Yang demanded, getting in Canada’s face.

“Yes, I swear it was.” The twin said. “Can you let it go?”

She bared her teeth, eyes flashing red. “Never. You and I are going to play again. Right now.”

“Okay.” Canada sighed.

They reset the board.

“We’re switching. I’m Vacuo this time.” Yang declared.

Canada’s stomach twisted. “I’d… rather not be Atlas…”

Weiss glowered at him. “It’s actually Mantle in this. And what’s wrong with Atlas?”

_They might have held my brother and me captive._ “Nothing. I’m just uncertain how to play their cards.”

“I’ll teach you. No. No, I _won’t_. I’ll let you flounder and struggle and _burn_ …” Yang intoned ominously.

Ruby sighed. “Stop being creepy, Yang.”

Canada uncomfortably picked up the cards for the Atlesian Fleet. He noticed Weiss was still watching him and shifted awkwardly. “Um. So I’m guessing you’re from Atlas…?” Why else would her reaction be so angry?

Her eyes narrowed further. “Yes, I am. How did you _not_ know that? Does ‘Schnee Dust Company’ ring any bells?”

Canada remembered now. He just hadn’t made the connection between the names. Then again, he barely remembered first names, let alone last. Luckily, Yang was calmer now that they were playing again. She slung an arm across his shoulders, making him jump.

“Don’t worry, Curly. Weiss may be from Atlas but she’s too ice-queenie to be a real jerk.”

“What is _that_ supposed to mean?” Weiss exploded, eyes dangerously narrow.

Yang wisely changed the subject, starting the game. “Prepare yourself, Matthew Williams! I’m going to beat you this time. And if I don’t we’re going to play _every night_ until break until I do.”

“Yay.” Canada said faintly, wondering how he had gotten into this mess.

“Break?” America questioned as ‘Soaring Ninja’ won again.

“Yeah. We have a short vacation before coming back for the Vytal Festival Tournament.” Ruby said. “Yang and I will be going back home to Patch for the week. And Blake and Weiss are staying with us!”

“That sounds nice.” Canada said, trying not to sound wistful. _I wish we could go home…_

“What are you two going to do?” Ruby asked.

“We’ll probably stay here like some other people, I guess.” Canada said slowly. “I mean, not everyone has a home to— can go home, right?”

The girls stared at him before simultaneously looking away. Weird.

“Probably.” Weiss said, voice slightly off. She cleared her throat. “I mean, yes you’ll be allowed to stay here. They don’t kick people out onto the curb if they have nowhere to go.”

Canada bit his lip and looked intently at his cards.

“Oh!” Ruby gasped suddenly, breaking the tension that had settled over the room. “Before we leave, can you guys help train us for the Tournament?”

America turned around and stared at her uncomprehendingly. “You want us to _what_?”

“Help us and JNPR train for the Tournament.” Weiss enunciated.

He rolled his eyes. “I heard her the first time. But…” America looked helplessly at his brother, arms flailing wildly.

“…Why?” Canada finished.

“You’re really strong.” Ruby said. “We think you can teach us a lot.”

_Where on Remnant did that idea come from?_ Canada thought, perplexed.

“You haven’t even seen us fight people— which the Tournament is all about. We haven’t _had_ sparring class yet. Isn’t it tomorrow?” America protested, still not understanding.

Canada put a hand on his brother’s arm. “What he means to say is that we think you’re overestimating our abilities.”

“Hey, we’re not asking you to spar with us.” Yang said.

“We’re not?” Nora whispered loudly, sounding disappointed.

“We just want some advice. I don’t know if you noticed but your teamwork was freaking awesome during the breach.”

“We also think a new set of eyes might help us find the flaws in our performances.” Blake added.

The twins looked at each other. The nations were no strangers to teaching new generations. In history, in combat, and sometimes in much smaller things like cooking in Canada’s case. It was just strange that students who should see them as their equals had instead seen Alfred and Matthew as their betters in some regard and wished for advice. It was always gratifying to help younger people get better at their craft, but was this worth it?

America tipped his head, eyes alight with interest, but left the decision to Canada. The more cautious nation appreciated his brother’s trust in his counsel. Apparently America could refrain from making a decision on the spot. The violet-eyed twin thought about it a moment longer and could see no reason to deny the students’ request. He nodded.

America brightened. “Sure. We’d be glad to help.”

Ruby’s eyes shone. “Awesome! Did you guys just talk using twin telepathy? Did you do that during the fight too?!”

Canada stared.

America responded after an awkward pause. “…We don’t have ‘twin telepathy’. Sorry.”

Ruby drooped. “Awwww…”

XXXXXXX

Maple Frost was a reassuring presence on Canada’s back. After a few days without the weapon on-hand, it was wonderful to have his beloved hockey stick with him once more. As much as he liked the weapon, he hoped he would not have to use it today. It was time for Professor Glynda Goodwitch’s sparring class and Canada could not say he was looking forward to it.

Canada did not mind fighting— not in the slightest— but the thought of sparring with a teenager in front of other teenagers with live weapons made him feel uncomfortable. Yes, their Auras would prevent any injuries, but there could always be accidents, especially since the gap between him and the students was so large.

Canada knew what he was capable of. He was a nation, which by default made him physically hardier and stronger than any human, including many of those on Remnant. What if one of his blows was too strong for their Aura to take and broke through like the shield was not even there?

He could only hope that Goodwitch would not pick him or America. _Especially_ not America. Canada may be strong for a human and even for a nation, but his brother had literal super-strength. America could lift tanks over his head with no effort and dragged around a parked car for hours without breaking a sweat. He would probably deplete the average Aura with one or two blows… while simultaneously impaling his opponent through the chest.

Needless to say, Canada was a little nervous as he sat in the stands between America and Pyrrha. The Huntress, of course, misunderstood the reason for his unease.

“I’m sure you’ll do fine if you’re picked. Don’t worry about the crowd.” She murmured. “Once you are in the fight, you will hardly notice them.”

Canada could only respond with a vague hum. He appreciated her encouragement, but it was unnecessary. There were at least twenty students here. What were the chances that he would be asked to spar today?

“Matthew Williams.” Goodwitch said.

The violet- eyed nation jumped, sitting up straighter. “Y-Yes?”

The Huntress eyed him disapprovingly. “I picked you to go first.”

Oh. _Oh_. He had not even heard her speak.

Canada swallowed. “Um. But I can’t qualify for the Tournament by default so why…?”

Her stern glare silenced him. “I am aware of that. But I would like to see your skills for myself.”

Canada had the option to refuse, didn’t he? The nation realized that he likely didn’t. If a teacher said a student was going to spar, they sparred. Particularly when that teacher was Professor Goodwitch. He reluctantly got up, only to be stopped by his brother’s hand on his arm.

America studied him then gave him a beaming smile and a double thumbs up. “You can do it, Mattie.”

The nation managed to smile back. He descended into the arena and watched anxiously as his Aura level was uploaded onto the screen. It was taking a while so Goodwitch turned back to the stands.

“As for your opponent… Let’s see…” she glanced between the crowd and her Scroll. “Ah, Miss Sustrai. Perhaps you would like to spar with Mister Williams?”

Canada looked in the direction of the person she was speaking to, and found his gaze trapped by cold amber eyes. His heartbeat sped up and his skin grew clammy, flashes of memory prodding at his conscious mind but unable to break through. He remembered those eyes. Just those eyes. Eyes that burned with a cruel lust for power that would never be quenched. America was right. She was a villain. He did not remember how he knew it, but _she_ was the one who—

“Are you ready, Mister Williams?”

Canada jumped, returning to the present. He noticed the green-haired girl who’d been sitting next to the amber-eyed one— Emerald. He’d remember her name.— was in the arena. Her Aura had finished loading on the screen and she was watching Canada with a bored expression, like she felt she was wasting her time. Canada’s hesitation melted away, replaced by determination.

 “Yes. I’m ready.” He said clearly. _I’ll show her._

Goodwitch nodded and backed away. “You may begin.”

Neither combatant moved. Both eyed the other, one bored, the other wary and attentive. Canada took a moment to observe her weapons, which were currently revolvers. If he had to guess, they must turn into daggers of some sort. Long-range and melee, much like his own weapon.

His observations were cut short when Emerald moved first, raising her revolvers and firing at him. Canada blocked the shots with Maple Frost, moving quickly and bringing the blade end down at his opponent. She back-flipped out of the way, parrying his blow and lashing out with a transformed sickle. Canada blocked the strike, forcing her arm aside, and struck her in the chest.

Her Aura meter went down a small amount on the screen. She stumbled back, startled that he’d gotten the first strike. Then red eyes narrowed.

“Go Mattie! Kick her butt!” America cheered.

JNPR joined in with their support, mostly— or at least most loudly— provided by Nora. Canada noticed RWBY wasn’t cheering at all. In fact, they looked torn. Maybe Emerald was a friend of theirs?

His vision doubled.

Emerald ran at him.

_But she was hanging back and aiming her revolvers at him?_

Not willing to take any chances, Canada aimed quickly and fired as he threw his body to the left. His bullet passed through the running Emerald— who vanished— and hit the one with the revolver in the shoulder. He heard a shot whizz past his head, apparently too fast to see. Emerald’s eyes widened slightly in surprise.

_Oh! Is this some kind of cloning Semblance?_

He couldn’t spot any differences between the clone and the real Emerald, but now that he knew which Emerald was the real one, it was easier to keep an eye on her. Canada tracked her movements, firing a few shots her way before dashing in close. He blocked her underhand stab, then darted away as her sickles turned into kusarigama.

Canada quickly dodged, used to not relying on Aura to defend him from blows. As a nation, he couldn’t die if badly injured but recovery still took time and ‘dying’— as in going into a coma for who knew how long— sounded terrifying. Instincts were hard to get rid of, so instead of relying on the shield he couldn’t see, he kept evading, jumping and swaying out of the path of her strikes.

His vision doubled.

Emerald vanished and reappeared closer to him. And vanished. And reappeared with sickle raised to strike—

_She was still keeping her distance._

Unless she could teleport or turn invisible along with her cloning Semblance, she wasn’t moving around the area as much as she wanted him to think. He rushed towards her, ignoring the Emerald that kept vanishing. She dropped her left revolver on accident where his foot was about to land. If he stepped on it he would lose his balance—

_She didn’t drop it. She’s holding them both._

His foot slid through an obstacle that was not there and he swung at her. The weapon on the ground vanished. Her eyes widened with surprise and mounting frustration as she darted away.

_Ah, so it’s hallucinations, not clones_ , he realized. _Good to know._

Now that he knew what to look out for, Canada could easily spot the inconsistencies in the fake visions. Things would blur. Objects would move. Dust would rise from the floor when ‘nothing’ was there. The double-vision was becoming disorienting and was giving him a headache but he refused to let it slow him down.

He knew it was unbecoming of a nation but he desperately wanted to win. Emerald had dismissed him as soon as she saw him like so many other people did. He wanted her to see he was a threat, a person, not something that could be forgotten or ignored.

Her kusarigama came at his face— _Her kusarigama came to his left, where he would have dodged._ He grabbed the chain, yanking Emerald forward, and slammed his knee into her gut before striking her directly in the torso with his hockey stick. She went flying and struck the wall, falling to the ground with a dazed expression.

Her Aura dropped into the red. Canada’s was still far in the green.

“And that’s the match.” Glynda called.

Canada blinked. _I won?_

The crowd broke out into cheers. The loudest among them was America, who whooped loudly.

“Yeah! I knew you could do it. You rock, Mattie!”

Canada could not stop himself from smiling.

Emerald got up off the floor, pure anger in her red eyes.

She lunged for him, sickle raised.

_But she wasn’t attacking. She was just walking peacefully towards him, a small smirk on her face._

Canada turned around and walked away, not bothering to look back again. If she attacked him now, it would be on her. She would be the one in trouble for breaking the rules. Besides, he was a nation. Even if she broke through his Aura, he wouldn’t easily be killed.

Nothing struck him in the back and he blinked. Emerald was still next to him. Her smirk was gone. Instead her jaw was clenched and her eyes burned.

“Good match?” Canada offered.

She gave him a cold look and stalked back to the amber-eyed woman and the grey-haired boy. Canada took note of the small black-haired girl sitting behind them too, all while carefully avoiding the woman’s intense amber gaze. He returned to his seat and was instantly ambushed by his brother.

“That was awesome, Mattie!” America cheered, hugging him tightly.

“Ribs—” Canada gasped.

His brother hastily released him.

“You did really well.” Pyrrha complimented.

“‘Well’? He was _amazing_!” Nora gushed.

“I agree.” Ren intoned.

“Thank you.” Canada said, pleased by the praise.

He glanced at Team RWBY, noting their lack of comments.

Blake leaned forward, speaking softly. “We think you did a good job. We just don’t want to say much because Emerald is our friend too.”

America heard her and frowned. “She’s your friend? She seems a bit… grumpy.”

Canada heard the underlying suspicion in America’s tone and tensed. Did his brother sense something off about Emerald? Or was it her amber-eyed teammate that made him wary? The violet-eyed twin made a mental note to remember to warn America about Emerald’s hallucination Semblance later.

The others didn’t notice the twins’ shift in mood.

“Well, yeah. Anyone would be mad if they lost.” Yang said dismissively.

America pursed his lips and squinted slightly, looking at Emerald. Canada recognized the expression he wore. It was the look his brother got when he was considering whether or not to say something that could possibly cause a huge argument. Despite what many thought, the nation did have a mouth filter and could use it from time to time. Apparently he decided it was worth it and spoke.

“You know... I think that’s the girl who tried to steal my wallet when we first got to Vale.”

Ruby gasped and spoke lowly, sounding offended. “It couldn’t have been Emerald! She’s really nice. She and Mercury— the grey-haired guy— are our friends.”

The blue-eyed twin did not respond at first, instead catching Canada’s eye. The quieter nation nodded once, just the slightest dip of his chin. America’s gaze returned to the sparring area.

“Sorry. You’re probably right.”

She probably wasn’t. Canada and America knew better than to deny their instincts, instincts which were telling them one thing loud and clear.

Emerald and her team could not be trusted.

XXXXXXX

Ozpin smiled at his Scroll, pleased. Qrow had finally responded. He was on his way to Vale and would be arriving soon. That was good. His forces would be convening in one place and compiling their intelligence. Ironwood suspected that their enemies would make a move during the Vytal Festival, and while Ozpin was certain their current defenses were enough, he wanted to have his closest allies in the city during the Tournament.

Speaking of the General…

The Headmaster of Beacon sipped his coffee, nodding at the newest person who entered his office. “Hello, James. Please, sit. We have something we need to discuss.”

The General remained standing. “Ozpin, if this is about overseeing the security for the Vytal Festival, there is nothing I can do to reinstate you to your previous position. I’m not sure I _want_ to after what happened during the breach. The council has made up their minds and I am in charge—”

Ozpin held up a hand, stopping his defensive statements. “That is not why I asked you to come here.”

James frowned, and remained standing. “What do we need to speak about then?” His eyes narrowed, flicking down. “Does it have something to do with _her_?”

“In a way.” Ozpin said evasively. “You had her in your care for a few months before she was transferred here, correct?”

“That’s right.” Ironwood confirmed, posture stiff. “She was held in an Atlas facility for emergency life-saving treatment after the attack. It was only after we were sure she was stabilized that we dared to move her to Beacon.”

“I recall.” Ozpin murmured, nodding. “But enough about that. Truthfully I brought you here to talk about my two newest students.”

The General’s expression cleared. “Ah, yes. The two teens that helped defend the city during the breach. I’m surprised you let them attend now. It is not even close to a new school year. That is quite an unorthodox decision you made.”

“These two have much potential.” Ozpin claimed.

“I’ll trust your judgement on that.” Ironwood said with a nod. “With all my new responsibilities, I haven’t had time to look at their files. What were their names?”

“Alfred F. Jones and Matthew Williams.”

There. A small twitch in his mouth and flash of recognition in his eyes at the names. Ozpin saw it. Ironwood knew Ozpin saw it. The General’s jaw clenched. The Headmaster ignored his friend’s closed-off expression, leaning forward.

“What did you do, James?” he said quietly.

The General abruptly turned on his heel. “This conversation is over.”

Ozpin stood to his feet, knocking his chair back with a clatter. “No. It is _not_.”

His tone made Ironwood stop in place, twisting to look back at the Headmaster. Ozpin did not intend to confront his friend so soon. He only meant to nudge, to poke subtly for answers, but the General’s reaction only proved the suspicions that had been prodding at the back of his mind. Ozpin locked eyes with Ironwood, expression calm but brown eyes burning with a tranquil rage.

“I knew something was wrong the moment your soldiers brought her here. I knew something was odd about those boys the moment I met them. I knew there was something _familiar_ about them. I had my suspicions, but your reactions confirm it. So which one is it, James? _Which one_ has part of _her_ Aura?”

Ironwood said nothing, jaw and fists clenched. Ozpin did not accept his silence, circling around his desk and striding across the office until he was face-to-face with the General.

“You are not walking away. You are going to sit down, and you are going to _tell me the truth_ , General Ironwood. What did you do to Amber? What did you do to my Kingdom? _What did you do to Vale?!_ ”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh look. The AU’s showing.   
> So. The AU element I mentioned and was vague about in the description in chapter one: Instead of Maidens, there are nations. That’s the basic idea that started this whole crossover. And that’s all I’m going to say for now. How Remnant nations work is something I’ll keep to myself for the moment, but I will say that both boys and girls can be Remnant nations and none of them are OCs. Trust me, everything will be explained in the future.


	8. Teambuilding

"Your performance today was abysmal."

Emerald could not meet Cinder's eyes, throat constricted with anger and shame. She watched the woman's heel-clad feet pass back and forth in front of her, unable to lift her head and risk seeing her boss's disappointed face. The entirety of their 'team' settled around their dorm room, including the disguised Neo. Both the mute and Mercury were taking far too much pleasure in her failure. She wished she could shoot the smirks off their faces.

"It wasn't my fault!" Emerald blurted. "He—"

An amber glare silenced her. "Our plans rely on your Semblance and strength. If you cannot defeat a meek weakling in class, how do you expect to beat anyone in the Tournament?"

"Burn." Mercury whispered to Neo.

The mute's mocking grin widened. Jerks.

Emerald hoped her face was merely warm, not red with anger or embarrassment. "I am strong enough for this." She said, trying to pretend she didn't sound pathetic. "I don't know what happened. It was almost like he could resist my Semblance…"

Cinder looked at her sharply, coldness turning into caution. "Do you truly think that or are you trying to make yourself seem like less of a disappointment?"

"I swear I do." Emerald said eagerly. "He noticed my illusions, but could see through them anyway. It could be  _his_ Semblance."

Amber eyes narrowed to slits. "If that's the case, that boy could be a threat to our plans. His brother as well if the cause is genetic." She sat down, crossing her legs neatly. "Watch them along with our other people of interest. Williams and Jones may not be a part of the Tournament itself, but it would be unwise to dismiss the threat they pose."

"Yes ma'am." Emerald agreed instantly, glad to be back in Cinder's good books.

That did not quell her anger completely, however. Matthew Williams humiliated her in front of Cinder and her… 'friends'. He had made her look like an incompetent  _fool_. She would not forget, and she would not forgive.

Emerald swore he would pay for this.

XXXXXXX

The weekend.

Two whole days of no classes, no homework, and freedom from the confines of Beacon Academy. It was a time for relaxation and recreation, for shopping in Vale or reading in the warm sun. Perhaps students would go to the bakery or get some tea at a café. That was what Blake had expected to be doing today.

It seemed that would not be the case.

"Why are we awake? The sun is barely awake." Yang groaned as she stumbled at the back of the group.

Teams JNPR and RWBY were following Alfred and Matthew to one of the empty rooms to train. It wasn't as big as the classroom used for sparring, but it was meant for training so it would hopefully serve their needs. The group had sent Pyrrha, Weiss, and Matthew to ask permission from Professor Goodwitch to use the room and it had been granted surprisingly quickly. Though maybe the teacher trusted the less destructive students to keep the others in line.

"You're the ones who wanted our help." Alfred reminded her.

Yang nearly walked into a wall. "At a  _reasonable_  time."

"Seven-thirty  _is_  reasonable. If I had my way, you'd be up at five."

"What is wrong with you…?" Yang muttered under her breath. One violet eye rested on Matthew, who was walking along with a Styrofoam cup in hand. "How are  _you_  awake? You're worse than I am."

Matthew shrugged and sipped his drink innocently.

Yang sniffed. Her violet eyes narrowed. "Gimme."

Matthew looked at her, raised his cup to his lips, and started chugging its contents. Yang gave a snarl and lunged for him, and an epic battle for coffee ensued. Everyone except Alfred and Ruby watched on with varying degrees of disbelief. The two siblings of the brawlers were more resigned than flabbergasted.

"Are you sure she's your  _older_  sibling?" Weiss asked her partner flatly.

"Yeah." Ruby confirmed with a sigh.

"And he's mine." Alfred added with similar disappointment.

"Really?" Blake asked. "So he's the older twin?"

"The mystery is solved!" Nora crowed triumphantly.

"How much older is he?" Ruby asked eagerly.

Alfred gave a small smile that was much different than his usual beaming grin. He almost looked sad. "Three days."

Yang stopped trying to steal Matthew's coffee and spun around to gape. "What? How does that work?"

Alfred's lips twitched. "Well, you see Yang. When a mommy and—"

"Continue that sentence and I'll punch you in the gut so hard you won't wake up until the end of the Vytal Festival." Yang threatened. "Seriously,  _three days_  of childbirth? How did your mom survive that?"

Alfred's face went blank. "She didn't."

Well. That was awkward. As they entered the training room in silence, Blake shifted uncomfortably, unsure of what to say.

Luckily her partner realized her mistake and apologized. "I'm sorry."

The blue-eyed twin shrugged. "No worries." He planted a smile back on his face. "So what are your plans for today?"

Blake noticed Alfred tended to do that. He liked to change the subject when it got to topics he was uncomfortable with, as if he were determined not to think of them. Blake knew better than to press the issue, however, and Ruby jumped onto the new subject.

"We're going to work on team attacks. I came up with codenames for each combo so the enemy won't know what hit them!"

"I did too." Jaune revealed proudly.

Ren frowned. "You did? You didn't discuss it with us."

The knight faltered. "Well… Er…"

Alfred burst out laughing. "Dude, if you want to use team attacks you have to let your team know about them."

"I was going to tell them!" Jaune protested.

"When? During battle?" Yang teased.

The knight turned red and scratched the back of his head. "Maybe…"

"I don't think that would be very productive." Blake observed dryly.

Jaune coughed before speaking loudly. "Which is why we are here today. To discuss such things and work out moves."

Matthew hid a smile behind his hand. "How about you do that while RWBY shows us a few of their combo attacks?"

Team JNPR agreed and moved to the side of the room.

Alfred strutted before Team RWBY and clapped his hands together. "Okay! How do you want to do this? Partners versus partners? Team versus those training thingies?" He gestured at the training robots build for such a purpose. "…We don't have to pay for those if we break them, do we? I don't think we have that much saved up."

"Nope. They're meant to take a lot of damage and be easily repaired." Yang said dismissively. "What do you think, Rubes?"

The red-cloaked girl thought about it. "We'll start with the robots unless you guys want to volunteer."

Alfred's grin widened, reminding Blake much of her partner when she wanted a good fight. "We'll—"

"No thanks." Matthew interrupted. "We won't be able to see what you're doing if we're on the receiving end."

"And we'll fight back." Alfred muttered, eyes gleaming.

His twin ignored him. Blake silently agreed with his wise choice. "You can start when you're ready and we'll give our thoughts."

They set up a couple dozen training robots. The mechanical droids beeped and came to life, shifting into basic stances. Blake could see Alfred bouncing eagerly in her peripheral vision.

 _Because of the fight or the robots?_  She mused. Knowing him, it was probably both.

The robots spotted their targets and ran at them, weapons— which consisted of batons and stun-guns— raised.

"Ladybug!" Ruby called.

Blake and Ruby dashed at the robots at high speeds. They zipped around them, causing damage with each strike. A few of the robots crumpled, unable to withstand their assault. The robots fired at the speeding Huntresses but could not hit them.

"Checkmate!"

Ruby swapped out and Weiss came in. Blake used her Semblance to distract a few robots and she and Weiss outmaneuvered their foes, quickly forcing their way close and overwhelming their enemies' defenses. More robots crumpled, but many more still stood. That made sense. They were supposed to take a lot of damage.

"Ice Flower!"

Weiss retreated to Ruby's side and used her glyphs. The red-cloaked girl shot a few of the robots and her bullets turned to ice on impact, making them freeze in place.

… _Dammit Yang._

"Freezerburn!"

Weiss stabbed the ground, freezing it. A few robots comically slipped, while others adjusted to the change and kept advancing. Yang grinned and jumped high into the air before firing Ember Cecelia and punching the ground. Icy mist rose into the air, blocking the robots' vision. It might only be temporary though. If Blake recalled correctly, they had infrared as well.

"Aaaannnnd Bumblebee!" Ruby shouted.

Blake unsheathed her tossed one end of Gambol Shroud to Yang, swinging her around. The blond-haired Huntress gave an elated shout as she let go, slamming into the remaining robots and sending them flying. Team JNPR was forced to duck as the robots soared at them. Luckily Pyrrha hastily redirected the flying droids and they instead hit the wall, deactivating.

"That was… so… cool!" Alfred yelled.

"That was indeed impressive." Matthew agreed. His violet eyes were thoughtful. "I can only think of a few flaws off the top of my head. Freezerburn reduces the visibility of not only your enemies but also your teammates which could be a problem if you need to switch to long-range fighting. Bumblebee might not work on uneven ground because you could easily trip. Ice Flower could be replicated with Ruby simply using Ice Dust. And Checkmate and Ladybug probably won't be as effective against fast opponents."

"Good observations. But they're still awesome!" Alfred crowed. "Were those glyphs, speed, and shadow clone-thingies your Semblances?"

"Yeah, they were." Blake admitted, surprised and pleased he'd noticed. "Yang didn't really utilize hers here but she gets stronger with every hit."

Alfred looked like a kid on his birthday. "So  _cool_ …"

"What about your Semblances?" Ruby asked curiously.

"We don't know them." Alfred revealed with a shrug. "But whatever it is, I'm sure mine is awesome and heroic!"

He puffed out his chest. Ruby giggled.

"Maybe you can talk Grimm to death or crush them with your enormous ego." Weiss offered sarcastically.

Alfred smiled. "Nah. Punching's more fun."

"Agreed." Yang said.

They bumped fists. Team JNPR crept back to the group now that it was safe to do so.

"What about you guys? What are your Semblances?" Alfred asked them, blue eyes wide and hopeful.

"You don't have to tell us if it's personal." Matthew interjected hurriedly.

Pyrrha smiled politely. "It's fine. We don't mind sharing. My Semblance is polarity."

Matthew shot the demolished robots a look. "So that's how you redirected them." He murmured.

"Mine involves channeling electricity to make myself stronger!" Nora interjected, darting close to the violet-eyed twin. "And Renny's lets him mask negative emotions so he can hide from Grimm."

Matthew leaned away, not pleased to have his personal bubble space invaded. "Sounds handy."

"Wait, so Ren actually  _is_  a ninja?" Alfred mused.

Nora stared at him like he'd stated the obvious. " _Duh_. I told you that already."

"I don't know mine yet either." Jaune admitted with obvious reluctance.

"That's okay. It takes a while to figure it out." Pyrrha said soothingly.

Alfred bounced on his heels, blue eyes gleaming. "Now I'm really curious what mine is. We have Aura so of  _course_ we have Semblances. I never actually thought about it. But if Semblances are based off of personality traits then what could ours be…" He trailed off, muttering under his breath to himself.

Matthew smiled apologetically. "Don't bother talking to him anymore. His curiosity has been peaked so that's all he'll focus on for now."

"What about you, Curly?" Yang asked, slinging her arm over his shoulders. "Have an idea what your Semblance might be?"

The violet-eyed nation shrugged. "I have no clue, eh. Yours are so varied. I never thought about something like gaining strength through electricity was possible of all things."

Ruby considered him. "Well, you're kinda quiet and unnoticeable. Maybe invisibility?"

"Please no." Matthew groaned. "I already have trouble making people notice me."

"Besides, Renny already does something like that." Nora said with a huff. She wagged a finger in Matthew's face. "Don't copy him!"

"Okay?" Matthew agreed uncertainly.

Nora nodded self-importantly. "And give me your pancakes as an apology for suggesting such a thing."

Matthew's violet eyes blazed. Blake swore the temperature in the room dropped. "Hell no."

"Worth a try." Nora muttered with a pout.

The door creaked open and four people walked in.

Ruby brightened. "Hey, Velvet!"

The Faunus girl smiled and waved. "Hello, Ruby. It's nice to see you. What are you doing here?"

"Obviously training." Coco said, pulling down her sunglasses to inspect a fallen training bot. "Looks like you've been busy."

"Pyrrha got a little overenthusiastic." Blake said blandly.

"Sorry." The champion said.

Coco casually approached Alfred and Matthew, walking around them and inspecting them. "Who are these two cuties?"

Matthew turned red. Alfred raised a slightly perplexed eyebrow. Typical.

"I'm Alfred. This is my twin, Matthew. We're new to Beacon. Nice to meet you." The blue-eyed brother introduced them both with a smile and an offered hand.

Coco smirked and shook it. "Likewise. I'm Coco, leader of Team CFVY. This is Velvet, Fox, and Yatsuhashi. You're new, huh? And here I was about to ask where you two've been hiding out all year."

Matthew's skin darkened further and he covered his face. Blake hoped he wouldn't faint.

" _Coco_." Velvet hissed under her breath, mortified by her leader's behavior.

Alfred remained oblivious. Or maybe he just did not care. "Yeah, we're a special case. We fought during the breach and Ozpin asked us to come here late. Or early, depending on how you look at it."

Coco prodded his arm. "What, coming at the beginning of the year was too mainstream for you hotshots?"

"Actually, we weren't in Vale when the school year started." Matthew defended them. "We were in… Westwind."

Matthew twitched, eyes squeezing shut. Alfred put a hand on his twin's arm, blue irises dark with worry. Blake looked at her team, only for her attention to be caught by CFVY. The four second-years had various looks of shock and guilt on their face. The worst of them was Velvet, who looked like she was going to cry. Blake stepped towards her, concerned for her fellow Faunus.

"Velvet…?"

The rabbit Faunus flinched out of her reach. "I'm sorry." she choked. "I need to go."

She backed out the door and ran.

Coco cursed. "I'm going after her."

She followed her teammate.

Matthew looked at the remaining two members of Team CFVY, clearly distraught. "What did I say?"

Fox sighed, stepping closer. To their surprise, he bowed lowly, teeth clenched and quivering with some suppressed emotion.

"I'm so sorry we didn't make it in time." He said, voice barely keeping its even tone.

Violet eyes went impossibly wide. "…Oh. I— u-uh."

Matthew's mouth worked but no more words came out. Instead his eyes locked on the remains of the training robots, a few of which were still smoking. To Blake's rising horror, his eyes grew glazed and he began to shake.

"They— T-They—"

Alfred rushed to his brother's side, planting his hands on his shoulders. "Mattie.  _Mattie_ , look at me." The effort it took for Matthew to do as he commanded was obvious. Alfred kept his voice low. "We got out. We're not there anymore, okay? We're at Beacon. We're  _safe_  here."

Matthew slowly shook his head, eyes still wide and unfocused. Blake knew that it wasn't the training room or them he was seeing anymore. Finally, the twin managed to speak.

"They killed them. They killed them all. We couldn't help them. They're all  _dead_." he choked.

Something in Blake's stomach seemed to twist in on itself.  _Oh no…_

Alfred's face twisted with sorrow. "Mattie…"

His twin pushed him away and fled out the same door as Velvet. Blake watched him go, heart heavy in her chest. Alfred hesitated and put a hand on Fox's shoulder.

"It wasn't your fault. Don't blame yourselves." He said, sounding years older than he should.

He patted the Huntsman's arm once more before running after his brother. Teams RWBY, JNPR, and the remnants of Team CFVY watched him go in silence. Of all people, it was Ren who broke it.

"I think this training session is over."

XXXXXXX

A few minutes later, Ruby stood in the center of Team RWBY's dorm, hands on her hips and chin raised with importance. She looked at her companions— the complete Teams RWBY and JNPR— and nodded firmly.

"All right! The first meeting of Operation Help Alfred and Matthew is a go!"

Yang sniggered. "'Operation HAM'? Is someone hungry?"

Ruby blushed furiously. "It's just a coincidence, I swear!" She cleared her throat. "A-Anyway. We are here to discuss our new friends Alfred and Matthew and try to help them!"

"I never would have guessed that from the name of Operation HAM." Yang said mock-solemnly.

Ruby kicked her in the shin. " _Quiet_ , Yang!"

"I'm sorry, but why do the twins need our 'help'?" Pyrrha asked politely. "They seem to be settling in just fine."

"They are." Ruby agreed. "But… haven't you noticed there's something wrong? You saw what happened earlier with CFVY! Matthew freaked out when Westwind was mentioned. They're sad and scared and unhappy because something bad happened there, yes, but I think there's more to it than that."

Weiss scoffed, crossing her arms. "I can see that with Matthew, but Alfred is too obtuse to be 'scared'."

"Well, he's more 'sad'." Ruby said after a pause. She looked at her friends pleadingly. "Surely you guys have seen it those other times?"

"I have." Ren said from where he sat beside Nora. "Now that I think about it, something  _does_  seem to be burdening those two."

"See? I told you! Ren can see it." Ruby beamed. "Thank you, Ren."

The ninja nodded silently.

"So what are we trying to do about it?" Weiss said slowly. She put up a hand. "I'm still not certain something is  _wrong_ exactly, but I can see your point. What do you expect us to do to… 'help'?"

Ruby tapped her finger on her chin. "Well, I was thinking that their past might be like Blake's— but not in the part-of-a-terrorist-organization kind of way." She said hurriedly.

The Faunus gave her a neutral yellow stare.

Ruby chuckled nervously. "U-Um. I meant in a 'past and secrets wearing you down' kind of way. Yep."

"So you're saying that you think they're hiding or are haunted by something, and that something is upsetting them?" Jaune attempted to summarize.

Ruby brightened. "Precisely. So I was thinking that we should try to figure out what that something is so we can make it better!"

"I don't think it works like that." Weiss said dryly.

The red-cloaked girl huffed. "Well, I want to try anyway. Alfred is really sad but hiding it and Matthew is really nervous and uncomfortable all the time. I want to fix that or at least let them know that they can trust us and that it's safe here." She clapped her hands together and rubbed them. "So let's compile what we know and figure it out from there."

"What  _do_  we know?" Blake asked.

Yang started counting off on her fingers. "We know they lived outside of the Kingdoms, then in Westwind before moving to Vale. Alfred had a mentor named Gilbert who got badly injured and couldn't be a Huntsman anymore. Their mom died during childbirth and I have a feeling there was no dad to speak of."

Her eyes flashed red with rage. Ruby guessed she was thinking the dad abandoned his kids. Personally, she was under the assumption that he died. She was not sure which option was worse.

"Alfred mentioned them both being raised by an older brother." Jaune revealed. The others looked at him and he shrugged. "We were talking about siblings and he brought up one named Arthur." His blue eyes brightened in remembrance. "He also talked about a 'Francis' but said Matthew was closer to him. Something about a complicated past…?"

"Did he say what Arthur is like?" Pyrrha questioned, curious.

Jaune tipped his head. "He said Arthur is caring but overprotective to the point of being overbearing. Alfred implied he lost a lot of people and was afraid to lose his little brother too."

"Just him? Not Matthew?" Ren noticed.

"Maybe it's because Alfred is technically the youngest?" Pyrrha suggested.

"But they're twins." Blake pointed out.

"Alfred is still the baby of the bunch." Yang said.

She grabbed Ruby and ruffled her hair. The red-cloaked girl gave a squawk and broke free of her sister's hold.

Their actions made Blake think of a question. "Why do they— Alfred and Matthew— have different last names? They're not half-siblings like Yang and Ruby. They  _can't_  be if they're twins."

Weiss frowned thoughtfully. "This is just a theory based on what we know… but I think they may have been separated for a while during their early childhood and only reunited later."

Ruby discarded her previous evasive tactics and pressed against her sister's side, silver eyes going wide. "That's terrible."

Yang hugged her little sibling close. "Damn. No wonder Arthur was overprotective." She thought about what it would feel like to lose Ruby and unconsciously tightened her grip on her sister.

"Air…" Ruby gasped.

Yang released her sheepishly. "Sorry, sis." She looked at Blake. "Do your thing, Blake!"

The Faunus stared at her. "What?"

Her partner smiled sweetly. "You're the one who likes to read. Put the story together."

Blake rolled her eyes but complied after some thought. "The twins were born outside of the Kingdoms. Their mom died in childbirth so their older brother Arthur raised them. One day, something happened— maybe a Grimm attack?— and he lost Matthew. Fortunately, someone named Francis found little Matthew and gave him a home— or maybe helped him find his family. Arthur grew overprotective of Alfred because he was afraid of losing him as well."

Her bow twitched. "During that time Alfred was trained by Gilbert. Based on how they talked about him, I don't think Matthew was mentored by that Huntsman so that likely happened before they reunited. Eventually the twins found each other. Arthur then decided that the Wilds were too dangerous for kids so he moved to Westwind and they stayed there for a few years."

"But then it was attacked by the Grimm." Ren said solemnly.

Blake nodded. Fox and Yatsuhashi had told them about the ruins of the village Team CFVY had come too late to save. It made sense that the creatures of Grimm were what destroyed it, for what else could massacre and entire village? "The family was separated during the attack. Alfred and Matthew got away but Arthur…" She trailed off, looking down.

"Do you think he's dead?" Nora asked soberly.

The Faunus shrugged. "I don't know. Alfred and Matthew don't seem to think he is."

"Alfred looked a little sad when he talked about Arthur, but not broken up or anything." Jaune added his two Lien. "If he believed his big brother was dead, he'd be distraught."

Ruby clung a little tighter to Yang. The blond-haired Huntress didn't tease her about it.

"That's really sad. No wonder Curly's so twitchy." Yang said. She straightened, looking at her sister. "So what are we going to do about this? How do we help them recover?"

Ruby's eyes were hard with determination. "We're going to help them find their brother."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The 'Operation: HAM' thing really was a coincidence. I didn't realize what it spelled until I looked at it again and then I couldn't let the opportunity pass for some jokes. XD


	9. Vacation

Teams RWBY, JNPR, and the twins walked slowly towards the airship docking bay. America stretched his arms over his head, tipping his face up to absorb the warmth of the sun, and tried to ignore the slight tightness in his chest. Instead he looked at Ruby— who was carrying a hilariously large bag that was almost twice her width— and smiled.

"Really? Your dad was okay with that?"

"Yeah. Dad's the greatest." Ruby said happily. "He didn't mind the change of plans at all!" She bounced from foot to foot. "This is going to be the best vacation ever!" She frowned and stopped bouncing. "Well, almost the best…"

It was the day that students at Beacon could leave for their five-day break before returning for the Vytal Festival. The past few days leading up to this special date were practically a blur in America's mind, flying by between classes and training sessions and simply hanging out with friends.

Friends… These people were his friends and Canada's. It was so weird and exciting and new. Back home, they had the other nations of course, but Teams RWBY and JNPR were different. They did not associate with Canada and America because they had to, but because they wanted to. They liked him despite his loudness and overenthusiasm, tolerating him and teasing him without malice no matter what he did. Back on Earth, the only people who tolerated America so much were Japan and Lithuania.

As a bonus, these new friends noticed Canada, accepted his quietness but did their best to include him, and— most telling of all— chose not to pry after the Westwind incident. Even America did not completely know what that was about but suspected it had to do with their missing memories. Why didn't Mattie tell him he was remembering things? Then again, his reaction made America uncertain he wanted to know.

Anyway, having friends was awesome.

He was going to miss them.

"I just hope we have enough room for four more people." Yang muttered. "Man, it's going to be a tight fit. Especially if Uncle Qrow is back from his last mission. Even if he isn't a few of us are going to have to sleep on the floor."

"Why would your dad agree to host us  _and_  Team JNPR if there wasn't enough room?" Weiss asked worriedly.

Yang shrugged. "Dad's just happy Ruby has friends. Even if some of them are boys."

Jaune turned red. Ren shrugged.

"Jaune and I will behave." The ninja said in a bored voice.

"You don't have to." Nora encouraged him.

The knight somehow became a more vibrant shade of crimson.

Ruby gave the twins silver puppy-dog eyes. "Are you  _sure_  you don't want to come with us?"

Canada smiled apologetically. "Sorry but we have things we need to do in Beacon and Vale. And Professor Goodwitch was pretty insistent that we stay here."

America snorted and crossed his arms. "It's like she expects us to vanish off the face of Remnant if we leave. Doesn't she get that we  _want_  to be here? We're not going to run away like escaped prisoners." He tipped his head thoughtfully. "Well, Mattie might."

His brother smacked his arm irritably.

"That sucks. I didn't know she was worried." Ruby commented. She perked up, eyes alight with an idea. "Hey, maybe you should hang out with Emerald and Mercury! They're staying at Beacon too."

_Hell no,_  America thought.

Canada kept his polite smile firmly in place. "We'll see."

Pyrrha pointed at the sky. "Here comes our ride."

They followed the path of her finger, watching as an airship docked.

Ruby made a sound of distress. "Already? But I don't want to go yet!"

"You just said you were excited." Blake commented.

The red-cloaked girl flailed her arms wildly. "Yeah, but I feel bad leaving Alfred and Matthew here by themselves."

"We'll be fine." Canada assured her. "You have our Scroll numbers so you can talk to us if you want to. Besides, I'm sure we'll be able to come over next time."

"I guess…" Ruby muttered. She hesitated, then darted forward, hugging the twins briefly before letting them go. "Bye, guys. We'll be back soon."

America blinked at her in bemusement before raising his hand to fist bump Yang's.

She grinned and winked. "You can use our gaming console if you want to. Break it and you're dead." She turned to Canada and pointed at him dramatically. "I will defeat you when I get back, Curly."

Canada chuckled. "I look forward to it."

Yang punched him none-too-lightly in the shoulder. "Don't get cocky, Emperor Curly. The end of your reign of tyranny is nigh."

"Uh huh." Canada intoned in a bored voice.

Weiss halted in front of them. "If you take the console, don't touch anything else. I'll know if you did."

"Yes, ma'am." America said innocently.

He kept smiling as she gave him a withering look and walked off, muttering under her breath about oblivious buffoons.

"Bye." Blake said briefly and followed Weiss.

That left Team JNPR. America barely had time to brace himself before Nora crushed him and Canada in a hug. The twins' heads knocked together and America was certain a quarter of his Aura depleted. Canada emitted a strained squeaking noise. The blue-eyed twin would have found it hilarious if his ribs weren't currently getting pulverized.

"I'm going to miss you guys." Nora said. "Even if you do cheat at video games."

"I won fair and square." America choked.

She hugged them tighter. Canada gave another squeak.

Mercifully, Ren saved them. "Nora, I heard there are pancakes being served on the ship."

"Where?!" she shouted, releasing the twins and dashing on board.

A few students dove desperately out of her way, some falling to the ground and curling up protectively around their luggage. Apparently some people needed to get their priorities straight.

"Thank you." Canada panted, hands on his knees.

"You do realize she's going to be mad once she realizes you lied, right?" America questioned.

Ren shrugged. "I'll make her some pancakes using my personal recipe and she'll forgive me. I hope you at least get to have a relaxing vacation. I don't think I will."

He frowned as it slowly dawned on him that he would be spending time with six teenaged girls, three of which were…  _excitable_  to say the least.

"Don't worry, dude. If the girls get to be too much, use Jaune as a human shield." America stage-whispered.

"Thanks. It's nice to see I'm appreciated." Jaune said sarcastically.

Canada chuckled. "Well you do have seven sisters. You should be a pro."

"You never become a pro." Jaune said ominously. "All you can do is go hide when they come at you with nail polish and make-up."

"I doubt we'll do that." Pyrrha laughed.

Jaune remained grave. "You say that now, but you know Yang will want to do that stuff to us  _because_  it's so cliché."

"…Can I hide in your room until they leave?" Ren asked the twins, seeming to regret his decision to accept the invitation to Ruby and Yang's house.

America chuckled and clapped him on the back. "Sorry, dude. You know Nora will hunt you down. Especially since you promised her pancakes."

Jaune paled. "On second thought, maybe we should find Nora before she terrifies the waiting staff and demands to know where they've hidden the pancakes?"

The two boys looked at each other and ran into the airship with speeds that would make Ruby jealous. That left only Pyrrha, who smiled at the twins.

"Have a wonderful break." Green eyes studied them both for a long pause. "Remember, we're just a Scroll call away if you need us."

America's chest warmed.  _These people really do like us…_  He marveled.

"We know." Canada said for both of them. "Bye, Pamela."

She smiled and nodded before going onto the ship. Soon after it lifted from the dock, rising into the air. The two teams gathered in the open viewing area beneath the airship, waving goodbye.

"See you when we get back!" Ruby called, voice barely audible over the noise.

The twins waved until the airship flew out of sight.

America dropped his hand to his side. "What do we do now, bro? We're free men. We don't have classes or homework. We have all the time in the world!" He gave a nostalgic grin. "Now I remember why students love breaks so much."

Canada smiled as well, though his was more distant. "We could go to the library. Although… do you still have any hopes of finding information here?" he asked vaguely.

America opened his mouth, closed it, and drooped. "To be honest… Not really."

They'd scoured Beacon's library from top to bottom in their free time and found nothing about how to get home, or how they got to Remnant in the first place. It was becoming a little more than infuriating. America was determined not to let their lack of progress drag him down, however.

"Hmm." His brother tipped his head. "So what do you want to do then? I don't really feel like making friends with people."

America understood his reasoning. He could not shake the feeling that Cinder could not be trusted, and Emerald's rather shady Semblance only added to his mistrust of the entire team from Haven. It was a little judgmental but with two out of four clearly labelled as 'do not trust' it was hard not to group the entire team together in a little package titled 'make sure to avoid at all costs'. Seriously, a hallucination Semblance and kleptomaniac tendencies did not give America much confidence in Emerald's trustworthiness.

_But even if we told RWBY about it, they wouldn't believe us…_

He pushed such thoughts aside for the moment and jabbed his brother playfully in the arm. "Don't stress about it, bro. We may be stuck in Vale but we're on vacation too! Let's have fun. Come on, hit me with an idea."

Canada thought about it for a long pause. "…Video game tournament?"

America grinned. "You're on."

XXXXXXX

"It's good to see you so soon, Qrow." Ozpin greeted, sitting at his desk with his usual cup of coffee in hand. "I'm surprised you did not stop in a bar before coming here." He glanced out at the sunny sky. "It's certainly late enough for you."

The red-eyed Huntsman took a swig from his flask and smacked his lips. "Well, your message sounded pretty urgent, even for you. I was also hoping to catch my nieces before they left Beacon but it looks like I missed them."

"Good." Ozpin set down his mug and looked at his agent over his glasses. "I'd rather your nieces remain unaware of your whereabouts for now. You can surprise them when they return."

Qrow shrugged. "Wouldn't be the first time they didn't know I was nearby. I guess I'm having a nice vacation for the next few weeks." He pocketed his flask. "So, what shady bullshit did Jimmy pull this time?"

Glynda stood stiffly next to the unkempt Huntsman, eyes narrowed in distaste. "I would like to know why we are here as well."

Her voice was icy with dissatisfaction as she realized Ozpin had been keeping information from her. Thankfully, when she saw the Headmaster look Ironwood's way, her green glower soon transferred to the General. James cleared his throat, expression growing grave.

"Oh jeez. When I mentioned shady bullshit I was joking, Oz." Qrow interrupted before the General could begin.

"Qrow." Ozpin sighed. "Please let James speak."

The Huntsman put his hands up and gave an insincere "Sorry."

James walked before his three allies, pacing back and forth with his hands behind his back. "As you very well know, each Kingdom of Remnant has a person that represents everything that nation is—"

"All of us know that, Jimmy. Otherwise we wouldn't be here. Why are we getting a history lesson?" Qrow demanded.

Ozpin gave him a stern glare. " _Qrow_."

"Shutting up." The man muttered.

"Continue, James." Ozpin said.

The General nodded. "We do not quite know why they exist or how, but they are essential to gauging the health, strength, and other intricacies of the Kingdoms. They are connected to the land and the people and can help us react to things that threaten them, particularly the creatures of Grimm."

"The nations of Remnant are  _not_  immortal. They may be  _ageless_ , but they need to sleep and eat, and can be injured. Scientists have theorized that is due to the fragile stability of Remnant and constant attacks from Grimm that wipe cities off the map. The nations are not invulnerable. They can be killed just like a human, and when their Aura breaks, they are  _just like_  a human."

Ironwood halted, jaw clenching. "Normally when a nation of Remnant is killed, they are reborn. Their gender may change, their physical stature, their race, but their  _mind_  remains. They grow like a normal human, and when they reach a certain age they remember all of their history and previous lives. At that point they stop aging, leave their human lives behind, and find those that are aware of their existence and can help them represent and guide their Kingdom."

He grimaced. "However, that did not happen to Vale. She was attacked, and part of her Aura was stolen. As a result she was put into a comatose state. She could pass away at any time, and we feared her power would go to her attacker instead of reincarnating to a new body."

Realization dawned slowly on Qrow. "Your people had her for a while." At Ironwood's nod, his red eyes flashed dangerously. "What did you  _do,_  you totalitarian sicko?"

Ozpin put a hand on the Huntsman's arm to calm him— or keep him from attacking. "Let James finish."

Qrow kept glaring but did not speak again.

Ironwood looked out the window, turning his back to his allies and hiding his expression. "We were desperate. Uncertain. We did not want to risk letting Vale's Aura and powers go to our enemy. After much searching, we found two… boys. Twins.  _Special_  twins. We theorized that they could survive having a nation's Aura and Semblance transferred to them, unlike other… humans." The General took a breath and locked eyes with Qrow. "We were correct."

Qrow broke free of Ozpin's hold and punched Ironwood in the nose. The General stumbled back, catching himself on the desk. Glynda grabbed Qrow's arm as he raised it to punch James again.

"Stop this!" the teacher ordered.

"No!" the Huntsman snarled. "How are you so calm? He  _experimented_  on kids and our nation!"

Ironwood wiped blood from his nose. "We couldn't—"

"Don't give me that bullshit." Qrow growled. "Face it, James! What you did was  _fucked up_. You kidnapped two kids and used them as lab rats." The General twitched and the Huntsman bared his teeth. "Let me guess. One of them was the spare in case the first  _died_."

Ironwood's eyes hardened. "I did what I had to in order to ensure the safety of your King—"

"Finish that sentence and I'll break more than your nose." Qrow threatened. "They're  _kids_ , James!"

Ironwood remained silent. When Qrow did not try to punch him again, Glynda slowly let go, stepping back and looking at the General.

"What happened exactly? Was the Aura transfer…" Her lips twisted unhappily. "…successful?"

"If it was, the current Vale— Amber— would be dead." Qrow pointed out. "So yeah, what happened,  _Jimmy_?"

Ironwood frowned at him. "The process was interrupted. One of our… subjects broke the other out during the transfer."

"You mean one of the twins saved his brother and they escaped." Qrow said flatly. "Good for them. I hope they're far away from you."

"They're not. Which is why I summoned you here, Qrow." Ozpin said. "Two new students at Beacon are the twins Ironwood spoke of. He has confirmed it."

"They're here?" Qrow's eyebrows rose. "Well, fuck." He frowned as comprehension dawned. " _No_." He shook his head and jabbed a finger at Ironwood while glaring at Ozpin. "Oz, don't tell me you want to finish what he started?!"

Ozpin could not quite meet his eyes. "What James and Atlas did was ethically questionable at best, but it  _cannot_  be undone. A young man has part of the Aura of Vale, but it may not be enough to keep the rest from going to Vale's attacker when Amber passes away. For the safety of Remnant… we cannot let that power fall into Salem's hands."

Qrow's lip curled with disgust. "So we have to convince the kid to accept the rest of Vale's Aura before she dies."

Ozpin's brown eyes met his red, dull with solemn regrets. "We do not have another choice anymore, I'm afraid."

"Which one has Vale's Aura?" Glynda asked softly. "Matthew or Alfred?"

"You'll see soon enough. I've already taken the liberty of summoning him here." Ozpin said. He frowned. "James, perhaps it would be wise of you to wait in the Vault while we explain things. If he sees you, he could react bad—"

The elevator doors opened with a ding and its occupant walked out.

"Hey, Prof." Alfred F. Jones said cheerfully. "You wanted to see me…?"

His blue eyes landed on Ironwood and went wide. The teen backed up a step, eyes never leaving the General. "Y-You're—  _Y-You're—_ "

"Aw, shit." Qrow said.

Ozpin rose from his seat and walked around his desk, hands raised in a calming motion. "Alfred—"

Blue eyes flicked to him, growing wider. The teen's skin went ashen. "Y-You're all— You're with  _him_ — You took—"

Alfred seemed unable to finish a sentence, flinching violently as he blindly reached for the elevator buttons. Ozpin approached carefully but quickly. They could not allow him to leave like this. The terror in his blue eyes told the Headmaster that the teen would take his brother and run if they let him leave now. Alfred finally found the 'open' button and hit it, but Ozpin grabbed his arm.

"Al—"

" _Don't touch me!_ " Alfred screamed, and his eyes flashed green.

An invisible force hit Ozpin and he went flying, hitting his desk hard. His Aura took the brunt of the damage, leaving him with only a slight ache in his back, but that was unimportant. The Headmaster got to his feet and nearly collapsed again as wind struck him, forcing him away and sending papers and his coffee mug flying.

Ozpin's hair and scarf whipped at his face and he watched in horror as Alfred's eyes flashed between his natural blue and the green Aura of Vale. Even without the change, Ozpin could easily recognize what power the teen was wielding. It was Vale's Semblance: control over the weather.

_He shouldn't have enough of Vale's Aura to use her Semblance yet! Or could it be that Vale senses his fear and is assisting him…?_

It did not matter. They had to stop him and calm him down before someone heard the noise and came to investigate. Ozpin had a lot of influence and trust from his faculty and students, but trying to convince them to ignore a student that was desperately screaming and obviously terrified was beyond his capabilities. He closed his eyes.

"Qrow."

The Huntsman shot him an unhappy look but nodded. He fought against the gale, slowly approaching from the side, and Alfred unconsciously backed towards the corner and away from the elevator. His blue eyes widened and he quickly realized his mistake.

"No!" he shouted, throwing his hand out and sending Qrow flying.

Qrow landed on his feet, hand twitching towards his sword. Ozpin was pleased to note he did not draw it. Alfred was a scared teen, not an enemy.

_Though maybe he thinks_ _**we** _ _are._

Before Ozpin could try to reach Alfred again, the teen's body lurched and he curled in on himself, a pained expression crossing his face. The gale instantly stopped, leaving papers fluttering to the ground, and Ozpin approached, gripping Alfred's arms to support him.

His skin was ashen and sweaty and the Headmaster realized he must have run out of energy, or at least could no longer draw from Vale's. The teen trembled, eyes blank and unfocused as he stared past Ozpin at Ironwood. He ripped his arms from the Headmaster's grasp, stumbling blindly towards the General.

"I… remember..." Alfred slurred.

And then he crumpled to the ground.


	10. The Missing Days

" _Caannnnaaaadaaaa!_ "

America launched himself at his brother, trapping him in a one-armed hug as he passed. Canada choked, tipping sideways from his twin's weight, only to be held upright by the arm wrapped around him. It left the poor nation in an odd position, unable to fall down but unable to stand up either.

In his arms, Kumajirou sighed, not pleased with his caretaker's distress but doing nothing to stop it. The meeting had been too long and he was hungry, so the-one-who-fed-him deserved his punishment in the bear's humble opinion. America did not notice his brother's discomfort, beaming happily.

"Man, that meeting made me hungry! England took all my snacks away, can you believe that?" He did not wait for his brother to respond. "Soooo I was thinking, how about you and me go get some food for dinner? The hotel food sucks."

Canada's shoulders hunched. "I'd rather not. We're already back at the hotel and I need to feed Kumajango—"

"We can get him something at the restaurant. Everyone always thinks he's a stuffed animal so they won't be bothered by him." America interrupted. "Come on, please? We haven't hung out in such a long time and I missed you. I'll pay for it!" He grinned and wiggled his eyebrows. "And you can get  _pancakes_."

The violet-eyed nation hesitated, his resolve crumbling, then sighed. "Fine, eh."

The two nations walked through London's streets together. It was late at night, the meeting having gone on much longer than it was supposed to due to an argument between England and France. Well, it  _started_  between England and France. Somehow China, Romano, Spain, and Belarus had gotten involved and everything had devolved into a mess from there.

Germany had been unable to get the attention of the nations in order to end the meeting, but had eventually thrown up his hands and walked out. That had signaled to the other nations that they could leave and everyone scrambled outside… to find it was half past ten at night.

_No wonder I'm hungry. I haven't had a burger for hours_ , America mourned, stomach growling.  _Stupid England._ _Those snacks were perfectly good and he threw them out. Jerk._

"Um. So where do you want to go?" Canada asked quietly.

America thought about it. "Well, I heard there's a McDonalds—"

"No." his brother said flatly.

America winced at his tone but laughed it off. "Okay, bro. Jeez. I guess you can pick then."

Canada pondered their options, looking around. "Maybe…"

The bear in his arms stiffened, sniffing the air. His black eyes opened completely. "I'm hungry. I smell fish."

Canada smiled at him. "We'll get you fish in a moment, Kumaneko."

"I want it now." The bear said plaintively.

Canada sighed. "Well you can't—Eh?!"

Kumajirou wiggled out of his arms and lumbered down the street, following the scent of fish. America chuckled as he watched the bear wander off while Canada observed with a more aghast expression.

"Kuma, come back!" he yelped, chasing after the bear.

America shook his head and followed at a slower pace. Really, his brother should take better care of his pet. Canada was supposed to be the responsible one but he was always letting Kuma run off or get in trouble. America understood wanting to have a pet with you everywhere but did he bring Whale or Americat to meetings? No. If he did, England would get that stuffy British look and lecture him. No one lectured Canada or Prussia for bringing a pet. It was so not fair.

Kumajirou ran into a dark alleyway with Canada on his heels. America followed slowly, not in the mood to run. He was too hungry for exercise. God, he needed a hamburger. He heard Canada gasp and chuckled, rounding the corner.

"What's wrong, bro? Did you find a rat—?"

There was no Kumajirou.

There was no rat.

Instead, three unfamiliar men stood in the alleyway. One had his arm around Canada, keeping his arms pinned to his sides, and was holding a gun to the nation's head. America froze, slowly processing what he was seeing. Then his blue eyes narrowed.

"Let him go." He growled menacingly.

Of course. Of  _course_  he leaves his brother alone for two seconds and Canada almost gets mugged. Did England curse Canada or something? America bet the bushy-browed nation mistook his brother for him again and cast some weird magic mumbo jumbo on him.

_Stupid England._

The muggers did not release Canada, keeping the gun firmly to his temple. America studied the pistol but could not figure out the model. That was weird  _and_  annoying. He was usually pretty good about identifying weapons on sight. The model, the firing rate, the weaknesses, the number of bullets— he knew it all. But this gun was unfamiliar, almost alien.

"Put your hands where I can see them or I'll shoot." One of the muggers demanded. "Now!"

His accent was not British. His stance suggested military training. His eyes had the ruthless glint of someone who had killed before.

America put his hands in the air. "Okay. My hands are up, see? Let's all calm down here."

His gaze flicked to the other men, noting the similar postures and looks in their eyes. He also noticed they were all wearing the same clothes— a uniform?

_Almost like they're on a mission…_

America dismissed the thought. No one knew about nations except a select few, and those in the know knew better than to harm the personifications of their countries. Doing so or planning on doing so was an instant death sentence, no ifs ands or buts. More likely these men were former military out of work and desperate. Desperation was dangerous, but if America played his cards right he should be able to convince them to release his brother and talk things out.

_I have to keep their attention on me. I won't let them hurt Canada._

"You dudes are really making a mistake. Like, a  _huge_  one." America spoke softly but passionately. "You guys are heroes for your country. You're better than this. I know that times are rough right now but you don't need to mug people to get by."

" _What_?" The man holding Canada shook himself and scoffed, overcoming his surprise. "We're not after your money."

Well. That wasn't good. Words like that tended to lead to many things that were not good.

America had to ask though. "What are you after, then?"

The man grinned. "You."

Something hit America in the back, making him stagger forward. He fell to the ground, flinching slightly and groping for the thing he could feel sticking between his shoulder blades. His own pain was soon forgotten as he heard Canada scream, and he shook his head to clear it, rising to his knees. A gun hit him in the back of the head and he slumped, vision swimming.

"Careful! We need them alive." One attacker said angrily.

"I know!" the one that struck America said. "But you saw the files. This one can throw  _cars_. I'm not letting him get up."

A gun fired and another dart embedded itself in America's back. He flinched, black spots dancing in front of his eyes. He didn't let himself fall unconscious. He couldn't. Not when he heard Canada struggling, screaming his name and shouting insults at their attackers. Who knew the nation could be so loud? Surely someone would hear, right?

There was the sound of metal hitting flesh and Canada went silent.

One of the men chuckled. "Well it looks like we found the weaker one. And here I thought we'd have to experiment a bit."

America forced his head to turn. He saw Canada on the ground, unmoving, with a dart in his chest. Fury ignited in the nation's heart but his limbs were too weak for him to enact vengeance.

"Bas…tards…"

Someone nudged him with a boot. "Huh. He's still conscious. Tranq him again."

Another dart. America flinched weakly, feeling its poison go into his veins. His limbs grew paralyzed but he still clung to consciousness.

"What about the bear?" one of the men questioned.

"Leave it." One man said dismissively. "I don't kill animals. Besides, it's not like it can tell the others what happened."

America's eyes fluttered. "You… won't get away…"

The man closest to him whistled. "Wow. He's  _still_  awake. Are all their nations so resistant even without Aura?"

"He won't last. Let's just go already before someone shows up." Another said.

America saw a blurry figure pick up his brother, hoisting him onto his shoulder. He looked at the man— the soldier— closest to him. "You…don't know… who you're… dealing with…"

"That's not true." The man crouched next to the nation and chuckled. "We know  _exactly_  who you are…  _America_."

America lost his fight to remain conscious, and everything faded to black _…_

_…_ He woke in chains.

America breathed rapidly, eyes darting left and right, and saw he was in a dark room. He got into a sitting position on the metal bed-like slab he had woken on and immediately pulled at the chains binding him to the wall. They did not budge and he eventually slumped in a sitting position.

_I got captured. Canada did too._

_England is going to be so mad at us._

The door to the room opened and a man walked in. His hair was black, his face stern, and he wore an unfamiliar uniform. America's heart sank just a little bit.

_Oh, great. It finally happened. Some psychos created an organization to hunt nations. This is going to suck._

America did not show his unease, however, instead glaring at the man. "You've made a really bad decision, du—  _Hey!_ "

America yelped despite himself as the man placed his hand on his chest. Oh, shit. Was this dude  _that_  kind of captor? The kind who got all touchy-feely and creepy with his 'specimens'? America did  _not_  want to deal with that, no siree, and he let the man know it.

"What the  _Hell_  are you doing?" America hissed, trying to lean away.

The soldier ignored him. He adjusted his hand on the nation's chest, grabbing him firmly with his free hand so America could not wiggle away. In a clear, strong voice, he spoke.

" _For it is in passing that we achieve immortality. Through this, we become a paragon of strength and power to shield others from the weight of the world. Infinite in potential and unbound by fate, I release your soul, and for my Kingdom, give this burden to thee._ "

Energy rushed through America's veins. He gasped, startled by the intensity of it, and watched wildly as he glowed  _blue_. The light vanished but the strange feeling it created remained. America's skin crawled and his stomach twisted. The man stood up, face pale and drawn.

"That took more Aura than I thought." He murmured. He walked away, speaking to someone outside. "Tell me when the other one wakes up. I need time to recover my strength."

"W-Wait!" America shouted, hating how his voice cracked. "What did you  _do_  to me?"

The man did not look at him. "And keep that one drugged. We can't let him escape."

"Yes, General." One guard said.

They slammed the door shut, leaving America alone with his unconscious brother _…_

_…_ America watched Canada tremble as the General approached him. He remained still, placid, and confused as the man put his hand on the quiet nation's chest, violet eyes flicking nervously to his brother.

America wanted to warn him but the gun against his head kept him silent. He still did not know what the General had done to him. For all he knew, the psycho had figured out a way to make nations mortal— what, with all that chanting about immortality and death what else could it be?— and America did not want to think about what might happen to his people if he was killed.

Instead he tried to comfort Canada silently as the General gave the strange chant, refusing to look away as his fellow nation flinched violently and red energy flared over his frame _…_

_…_ Aura. That's what it was called. The General stood in the center of the room, having just informed them what he had done. It sounded crazy. 'Releasing the soul' and 'force fields' and 'Semblances'. It sounded like England and his 'magic'. But America could not deny how different he felt. He could not deny that it had saved his life. He could not deny that it was real.

And he hated it _…_

_…_ America eyed Ironwood— that was the bastard's name— warily. He licked his dry, cracked lips nervously. "You want us to do what?"

The General remained stoic but answered his question readily enough. That was something weird America had noticed about his captor. Ironwood was  _not_  happy they were there and seemed to want to make them as comfortable as possible, but was apparently helpless to free them. He'd even apologized when America flat out asked him to let them go.

"You are going to fight a few Beowolves." Dark eyebrows rose. "Do you remember what those are?"

"They're wolf-like demonic creatures." Canada said nervously. "A type of Grimm."

Ironwood nodded. "That is correct."

"Why do we need to fight them?" America asked sharply.

The General grimaced. "To show that you can."

America slowly raised a chained arm, letting the manacles jingle. "We don't have a choice."

Ironwood could not look them in the eye. "No. You do not."

America looked at his brother, who stared back with tired, nervous eyes. He gritted his teeth. "Fine. We'll do it." _…_

_…_  "Canada,  _MOVE!_ "

America shoved his brother aside, taking the Alpha's blow. He was thrown to the ground for his effort but immediately got up, grabbing the stupid gun their captors had given him and shooting the creature. It fell to the ground and turned to smoke, leaving the training room empty except for the nations and the Atlesian Knights that guarded them.

A voice came over the intercom. "Well done, Subject A. I'd give that a 90%. You lost points for shielding Subject C when it was unnecessary."

"Fuck off!" America shouted, glaring at the observation window far above. "I'll  _never_  stop protecting my brother. And it's Canada and America or Matthew and Alfred. Those are our names, you  _assholes_!"

That was a little something the nations had started doing after a while. Using their human names as much as their country ones. That way, maybe these bastards would realize they were  _people_ , and what they were doing was sick and wrong. It hadn't worked yet but America wasn't about to give up. He went to keep ranting only to feel his brother pull at his white t-shirt. Canada stood up slowly, still gripping America's sleeve.

"Don't make them knock you out again." He whispered. "Please."

America watched the Atlesian Knights approach to retrieve the gun and escort them back to their rooms. There weren't enough shots to take them all out, and even if the nation managed to do so, they would fill the room with knockout gas and it would all be for nothing. Gritting his teeth, he dropped the useless gun and let himself be led away.

"We're going to get out of here, Mattie." He murmured.

It was obvious Canada didn't believe him _…_

_…_ America eyed his favorite prison warden warily. He wasn't being sarcastic. Ironwood really was the nicest out of the people at the lab. Especially when compared to that bitch Ciel Soleil that showed up from time to time. She was young, looking about eighteen years old, and definitely shouldn't be allowed in such a secret facility yet, but she always showed up from time to time to look down her nose at the 'Subjects'.

Still, just because America hated Ironwood less than the others didn't mean he trusted the guy. And the General's offer had to have a billion strings attached.

"Why would you want to give us IDs and let us create weapons?" America asked slowly. "What, are you planning to erase our memories and dump us in the middle of the woods?"

"Of course not." Ironwood said calmly, now used to the blue-eyed nation's scathing remarks. "It would simply prove to be more effective if you had personalized weapons that transformed."

America had seen a few of Remnant's weapons before. He had to admit that a weapon that transformed from a sword to a gun and back sounded pretty sweet. But that didn't mean he was glad he could design and make ones for himself and Canada.

_Unless… We can use them to escape._

America looked at Canada.

His brother's violet eyes were less tired and scared then before. He had grown used to their lives in the lab. But that did not mean he had grown compliant. Constantly fighting Grimm and going through other tests had ironically made his brother tougher instead of meeker, perhaps bringing out all the negativity and anger the quiet nation used to hide deep inside his heart.

Here, Canada was noticed. Here, he was just as important as America. Here, he was not something that could simply be ignored like he so constantly was back on Earth.

And America could tell he despised it.

Canada wanted to fight for his freedom as badly as his brother did.

Decision made, America turned to Ironwood and gave him a double thumbs up and a Hollywood grin. "We'd love weapons. It'll be awesome!" _…_

_…_ They tore through the Beowolves and Ursas the scientists sent at them with ease. They did so, many,  _many_  times. Every time they handed the weapons back without a fight. Because they would bide their time. They would wait. They would plan.

Then— when their captors least expected it— they would escape _…_

_…_ The guards took Mattie one day.

Not both twins.

Just Canada.

For the first time in a long time, America had to be restrained. He had to be chained to a wall and sedated, and knocked unconscious so he'd stop trying to get out. They gagged him so they'd stop having to hear him scream for his brother, and ignored him as he struggled uselessly in his bonds.

Finally, after hours of heart-pounding waiting and praying that they didn't hurt his brother, the door opened. America looked up, eyes widening as Canada's limp body was deposited on the other bed. The guards left without a word and the door slammed shut.

The nation heard the manacles around his wrists unlock with a mechanical click. He yanked his arms free, his Aura depleted and wrists rubbed raw from his struggles to get to his brother, and dashed to Canada's side.

"Mattie?"

An exhausted violet eye opened, filled with confusion and pain. "…Al?"

"I'm here, bro." the blue-eyed twin said softly as he gently brushed his brother's hair out of his face.

Canada shuddered, entire body quivering. "Hurts…"

America forced his grip not to tighten, continuing to stroke his brother's head. "What did they do?" he asked quietly.

Canada swallowed roughly, barely able to speak. "They had a nation here. One of theirs. He was… conscious but weak. Dying. He couldn't fight. They… put him in a machine. And me in another pod on the machine. And… they put his Aura i-inside me."

Canada began to shudder, skin clammy and pale. "I-I can't feel him anymore but I can feel his people, Al! His people are so scared. They're hungry and dying and desperate and it's so  _cold_ —!"

America held his brother tightly as he babbled and wept, twitching as the memories from the other soul hounded him even though the soul itself had faded away. Except it had not faded completely. It was still there. The process used to bind the Remnant nation's soul to Canada had devastated his Aura, bringing it down to a critical low even as the other Aura was pumped into his body.

"Mantle." Canada whispered, staring vacantly over America's shoulder. "His name was Mantle."

As America watched, flares of purplish-red Aura flashed over Canada's shaking frame _…_

_…_ As soon as the guards came in, America knew it was his turn.

Canada wasn't the same after they forced Mantle's Aura into him. He was jumpier, more paranoid, and quieter than he'd ever been, even when compared to before all this. When the guards came for America, Matthew pressed himself into the corner and did not try to stop them from taking his brother. America could not resent him for it.

America silently stood and let the human and robotic soldiers surround him like a guard detail. Except they were not here to protect him. They were here to keep him from running. But he wouldn't run. Not without Mattie.

America was escorted to a room he had never been in before. It was large and spacious, almost coldly beautiful with its elegant white and metal structures, but its main component was horrifying to say the least.

In the center of the room was a pod-like structure. In the pod was a woman with scars on her face. She appeared to be sleeping. America knew better. His steps faltered and he felt a gun against his back.

"Move." A soldier said.

Ironwood grabbed his arm, pulling the gun away. "Enough of that. Let me explain to him."

"No." A clear female voice came from their left and Ciel Soleil approached with firm, authoritative steps. She halted before Ironwood, eyes sharp and cold. "There's no time."

Ironwood frowned at her. "Surely he deserves to know what is going to happen, ma'am."

_What the Hell? How does this teenager outrank the General?_ America thought, startled. His eyes widened with realization.  _Unless…_

"There's no time, General." She repeated firmly. "Let's get the transfer over with."

The two guards behind America tried to usher him along. He stayed in place, eyes never leaving Ciel.

"You're Atlas, aren't you?" he whispered.

She looked at him with disinterest. "Yes. I am."

America wanted to hate her. He wanted to scream at her and demand to know why she was letting them do this to fellow nations. However, he knew things were different here. It was not the same as Earth. On Earth, most nations would never do something like this. This was not Earth though. It was Remnant. Why would a nation care about another from a completely different world?

America finally looked away from Atlas, staring at the unconscious nation in the pod. "…Who is she?"

It was Ironwood who answered. "Vale."

America shut his eyes. He wanted to demand to know why they were doing this. He wanted to fight to break free. He wanted to wreak havoc upon them and destroy them for what they were doing. But he knew it wouldn't work. He wasn't strong enough to fight them all.

He was shoved onto his back in the machine, and the top clicked closed, sealing him in a metal coffin. America's gaze found Ironwood through the glass, who looked back at him sadly, an apology in his eyes.

There were a few beeps and the sound of the machine turning on.

And agony ripped through his veins.

America screamed as Vale's green Aura surrounded him, forcing its way into his flesh and seeming to rip him apart from the inside. It surrounded his head and heart and guts, pressing and pulling and tearing and straining as it sank into his very pores. Flickers of terror and grief that were not his own prodded at the edge of his mind, and he pleaded with the source of it to stop, please stop,  _please stop hurting him—!_

The pain stopped.

America's eyes fluttered and he slowly grew aware of the sound of screaming sirens. There was a shudder, almost like a physical ripple in the air. Then ice caked onto the glass of his coffin, blocking the view. He watched, fascinated, as the glass cracked and shattered, revealing familiar yet alien violet eyes. They were glowing too brightly.

Despite the change, America's lips twitched into an exhausted smile. "Mattie…"

His brother's cold gaze grew icier than an arctic wind and there was the sound of abused metal. The lid to America's coffin went flying, striking a few soldiers. Canada gently picked up his twin, and America noticed his brother's skin was icy-cold. Just like the room. Snow and ice was everywhere, with cold winds blasting at soldiers and Atlas and keeping them away.

America let his head loll limply, too tired to lift it, and noticed that the pipes between him and Vale had been cut cleanly in two. There was also no frost on Vale's pod. Canada wasn't trying to hurt her.

_Amber… Her name is Amber…_  he thought.

His vision blurred and suddenly he was flying. Not flying. Gliding. America had to giggle as he noticed the slide of ice his brother had created. Mattie was skating on it like a pro. His brother was Elsa! Did that make America 'Anna'? That wasn't as fun… Anna didn't have cool ice powers.

Canada noticed he was awake. "It's okay, Al. We're getting out. They won't hurt you anymore."

He swung something red— Maple Frost— and sent five robots flying. America watched blankly as more robots were frozen by a gust of wind.

"…Semblance?" he mumbled.

"Not mine." Canada said crisply. "Mantle's. I'm—" he twitched. "—not sure how much longer I can keep using it. Mantle isn't that strong anymore so it's tiring to keep going." Sweat beaded on his brow.

America smiled softly. "I know you'll get us out." He could feel his consciousness fading, along with the pain he had not noticed in his head. "…You're my hero, Mattie."

He heard his brother's sharp inhale, and everything slipped away…

…The rest remained a blur.

He vaguely remembered running through snow, and over frozen water, and into warmer lands. He remembered near-constant pain in his head, and how whenever he woke, Canada was still carrying him, still using Mantle's Semblance, still running.

He tried to run too, tried to tell Mattie things would be okay, that they would make it, but soon the migraine would become too much and he'd faint again _…_

_…_ America did not remember much from Westwind. That was the town, wasn't it? He knew its name because it was one of his— Vale's. He was feverish, and confused, and in pain as his body refused to adjust to the invasive Aura inside it. He cried and vomited and moaned from the constant pain, feeling like his head wanted to split open. That's why they stopped in Westwind. America was too sick to continue. If he did not get some type of treatment he might die, 'immortality' or not.

The villagers believed his random claims about 'knowing his people' were merely incoherent babbling because of the fever. They helped him and Canada without demanding anything in return, perhaps sensing who America was deep down.

His brother turned the rain into snow because he was so distraught and tired but dared not stop using his power or  _they'd_  reach them they'd—

The Grimm attacked.

So did the Atlesian Knights.

Under whose orders, America did not know. He just remembered screaming as his people were slaughtered, and vaporizing the robots with bolts of lightning as vengeful, grief-stricken shrieks tore their way from his throat.

He remembered Canada running with him again, but his brother had been relying on Mantle's Aura and Semblance too much for too long.

He didn't know who collapsed first, himself or Canada.

The last thing he recalled was the snow turning into rain.

XXXXXXX

America was afraid to open his eyes. When he did, where would he be?

Ozpin's office?

His room?

The infirmary?

Or someplace worse?

_Like a metal coffin or a cell._

He did not dare move any part of his body, instead feeling what he could from his current position. He was laying on his side on something slightly cold, seemingly unrestricted. There was something light covering his body but it was not nearly enough to keep him down, and he could not feel chains or manacles around his ankles or wrists.

That meant he was either not a captive, or his captors were confident enough in their abilities that they did not feel the need to tie him down. As he recalled what happened before his collapse, America guessed it was the latter. He pricked his ears for sounds of people nearby, but only heard a low hum and the occasional crackle of electricity. Then he heard the slosh of a drink and the shuffle of moving cloth.

They were there. Watching. They knew he was awake. There was no use in pretending to still be unconscious.

America opened his eyes. He was on a little bench of some kind with a red cape over him. But that was not grabbed his attention about his new surroundings.

Torches. Literal torches were on the wall above him. Torches with green light of all colors. They were not very practical. They barely lit up the dark room around him at all, leaving everything dim and shadowy.

Including the four figures towering over him.

_That's not ominous at all._

America blinked to let his vision clear, taking in a solemn Ozpin, Ironwood, Goodwitch, and red-eyed man. The nation opened his mouth, unsure of what he wanted to say. Did he want to shout at them? Demand they let him go?  _Beg_  them to let him go? Such actions were unbecoming of a Hero but America was  _scared_.

There. He admitted it. The Hero was  _terrified_. Wouldn't Russia be happy? He could not stop himself from feeling fear, however. It was like a scene from a horror movie. He was alone in a strange room with people he thought he could trust and one person he knew he couldn't. He'd left his Scroll with Canada— such a  _stupid_  decision on his part— and although he had told his brother that Ozpin wanted to see him, Canada would probably never find this menacing place in time even if he got concerned and went looking.

America could not help but think of every horror film he'd seen. The situation really was like one. An idiot teen met a group of strange people and was invited to their school, only to find out they were in cahoots with some creepy dude who wanted to experiment on the kid. Or sacrifice him to a demon or something. Luckily, real demons didn't seem to exist in Remnant. Sacrifices on the other hand… No. He was being silly. It wasn't like Vale was here for him to be—

Glinting metal caught his eye and America stared at the familiar life support machine. It had been fixed. Or replaced. How didn't matter. It was there, in front of him. His eyes slowly broke away from Amber and went back to the four adults in front of him. They knew. About all of it. They were in on it. Ozpin and Goodwitch— teachers he thought he could trust— were in on it. Since Ironwood was still beside them, it was obvious whose side they took.

The feeling of betrayal wanted to break America. He kept the desperate screams that wished to burst free trapped inside his throat, refusing to lower himself by sobbing like a child. He couldn't help it. He liked them. He thought he could trust them. Now that trust had been shattered.

America knew what they were going to do, so he gave the only request he could.

"Please don't hurt my brother."

Something in Ozpin's brown eyes seemed to dull. "We're not going to hurt you, Alfred. Either of you."

America remained silent. Did the Headmaster think using his human name would make him feel better? Did he think it would make this feel like less of a betrayal?

"You…" He swallowed roughly, acutely aware of the dryness of his throat. "…You knew what we were. That's why you brought us to Beacon."

"I swear I didn't." Ozpin claimed. "I did not know about what Atlas had done to you, Alfred."

The softness of his voice made America want to believe him. But why was he speaking like Alfred was younger than him and not a nation that was hundreds of years old? Though Ozpin claimed he didn't know about Atlas' actions… Maybe Ironwood had not told him everything? Did the General keep Alfred's status as a nation from another world to himself?

America wanted to shout the truth that he was not a random child but a superpower from another planet that they kidnapped and experimented on. But what would that accomplish? Dividing Ozpin's group? Making them mistrust each other? If they were anything like the rest of the people who knew, they wouldn't give a damn about Earth. They just cared about the survival of their own world.

_They might not be like that_ , the softer side of America murmured.  _Ozpin seems genuinely sorry._

The nation sat up slowly, noticing how they watched his every move. Did they think he would run? Where could he go?

_I don't know where I am. Underground somewhere, maybe? Am I even in Beacon or Vale anymore? I don't know if I can escape._

He could try. But they'd stop him. Ozpin looked sorry, Goodwitch looked sad, Ironwood looked guilty, and the other man looked angry, but that would not stop them from preventing him from leaving. America did not understand the full story but he knew enough to guess that they needed him to save their nation— to  _become_  their nation. They wouldn't let him walk away. They couldn't.

He could not stand staring at their faces any longer so he looked at his hands. "What are you going to do to me?"

"We're going to explain." Ozpin said. The Headmaster sat beside America like a father or mentor telling a story to his child, posture calming and nonthreatening. He nodded at Amber's pod. "Do you know who that is, Alfred?"

"The personified representation of Vale. A nation." He whispered.

"That is correct." Ozpin said like America had gotten a difficult question right on a quiz. "She was attacked and injured last year. The circumstances of the attack are… troubling, to say the least. Somehow, part of Vale's Aura was stolen. If not for Qrow's intervention—" He nodded at the red-eyed man. Qrow. America had heard that name before… "—it would have been completely taken by her attacker. Normally when a nation receives a fatal injury, they are reincarnated into a new body. However, because of the nature of the attack on her, Vale has instead gone into a comatose state."

_Like what happens when an Earth nation experiences a wound that would be fatal for a human_ , America's mind supplied.  _Except Remnant nations are supposed to die and reincarnate at that point._  He knew that fact before Ozpin spoke of it… because Vale knew that.  _What other memories of hers do I have? Is that where some of my nightmares are from?_

Seeing that he had no questions, the Headmaster continued. "The current Vale is going to die. It is not a question of if, but when. If she passes now, we fear that the rest of her Aura will go to her assailant, a very dangerous individual who should never have the powers of a nation. That is why Ironwood and Atlas needed you. You're special. They discovered that your body could accept Vale's Aura, which would prevent it from going to her attacker."

_Ironwood really didn't tell them I was already a nation. Bastard._

"Just get to the point." America whispered.

Ozpin gripped his cane tightly. "I truly am sorry for what was done to you. You were taken from your home and put through inhumane experiments. But I'm afraid what was done cannot be undone. You have a part of Vale's Aura inside you. You are the only one who can safely and reliably take the rest. If you do not, a monster may get Vale's full powers and who knows what that will do to my Kingdom with them." The Headmaster looked him in the eyes. "I need to ask you to be a hero, Alfred. I need you to agree to become Vale."

America wanted to vomit.

Before he got the chance to respond, Qrow gave a loud, bitter laugh. "Tell him the rest, Oz."

The Headmaster's eyes closed tiredly. "Qrow…"

" _Especially if_ _ **Uncle Qrow**_ _is back from his last mission…"_

Qrow.

He was Ruby and Yang's uncle.

America's stomach lurched.  _They couldn't have known too, right? They_ _ **couldn't**_ _. They couldn't couldn't couldn'tcouldn't_ _ **couldn't**_ _—_

"What?" the Huntsman demanded, tone hostile. "Are you going to act like Jimmy and deceive him? I'm not hiding things from the kid, Oz. He deserves to know after what he went through."

Qrow flopped down on America's other side. Despite the scent of booze that came off of him, the nation was rather comforted by his presence. Qrow did not kidnap him or hold him captive. He did not pretend to be a benign mentor only to betray his trust. He was a stranger. He was also Ruby and Yang's uncle, so he couldn't be that bad.

_Or maybe I'm just that desperate for allies right now._

Qrow took a swig of whatever was in his flask. "Here's the thing, kid. Shoving Aura into something else isn't exactly a practiced and perfected technique. Vale is like the forces of nature they wield. Strong, unpredictable, powerful, and  _unstoppable_. The truth is, if we transfer Vale's Aura to you,  _you_  might not be the same anymore, even in the best case scenario. At worst, you'll be completely overwritten and 'Alfred' will cease to exist."

America went numb. "Loss of identity." he whispered faintly.

Glynda stepped forward, placing a hand on his arm. "That might not—"

"Maybe that'll happen." Qrow interrupted. "But maybe it won't. We have no way of knowing." He ignored the teacher's warning glare.

America took a calming breath and wiped his sweaty palms on his jeans. "Why aren't you sure? Why is Vale different? You did this with Mantle but Mattie is still himself."

Except, there  _were_  subtle differences. The paranoia. The fear of Atlas. The disgust with their system and robots. Was that Canada's anger because of what happened to the twins and the massacre in Westwind, or was it Mantle's because he had been abandoned in favor of Atlas and left to die?

Ironwood grimaced. "Mantle was already dying.  _Naturally_  dying. The city was collapsing and taking its representative with it. I'm honestly surprised he lasted that long." He hesitated. "Someone high up decided that Mantle was expendable and could be used to test whether the bonding process would even work."

_Who wants to bet that 'someone' was Atlas?_  America thought. Then his brain went over what the General just said again. Rage snapped abruptly into place and he leapt to his feet. "My brother is  _not_  expendable!"

Ironwood placidly raised his hands to chest level. "I agree. My superiors—"

"Your superiors can go screw themselves!" America spat. "They saw so little value in my brother's life that they'd do  _that_  to him  _without knowing if he'd survive?!_ "

The General sighed. "I know. I know it was terrible and inhumane. I won't give excuses. I was not the only one to approve of such horrible actions but I let it happen. Just know that I'm sorry for my part in what happened to you."

America glared at him, blue eyes cold. "I don't forgive you."

Ironwood nodded. "I understand. But this isn't about us. This is about Vale and Remnant and all the people living here."

America wanted to slug him for daring to say that he should care about Remnant when the people of Remnant clearly showed they did not care about the people of Earth. They proved that when they experimented on two of Earth's nations. But it was only Atlas and her mindless minions that hurt him and Canada and were involved in their captivity. Should the rest of the world possibly suffer at the hands of a monster because he loathed a certain part of it?

No. He couldn't do that. He couldn't just abandon Remnant to chaos and destruction. Curse his hero complex.

_The other nations are right. I_ _**am** _ _too soft._

But not  _that_  soft. What if he said no then and there? What would they do to him? Would they try to force him into the machine? If they did, he'd fight with everything he had. He'd let himself get wounded and then they'd have  _two_ comatose nations to deal with. He wouldn't risk his people on Earth by agreeing right away and possibly getting his identity erased.

"Whether or not you accept to have the remainder of Vale's Aura transferred to you is completely your choice." Ozpin said as if he could read America's mind. "We will not make you do anything."

America slowly walked up to the pod, looking at Vale's peaceful face. He reached up, touching the glass briefly. Vale—  _Amber_  did not magically awaken and make the decision go away. He swallowed hard.

"How long does she have?"  _How long do I have to decide?_

"We think it would be best if you make your decision by the end of the Vytal Festival." Ozpin said. "Vale has been stable for a while. She will not deteriorate any time soon. You have time."

America studied her closely, eyes following every line of the scar that marred her once flawless skin. "Amber." He whispered. "Her  _name_  is Amber." He let his hand fall to his side and turned away from the pod. "I need time to think."

"Of course." Ozpin agreed. "This is a huge decision, and one I'm sorry you have to make."

He genuinely was regretful. That made it hard for America to hate him. In fact, there was no anger left at all. Only exhaustion and a deep-set conflict in his heart.

"Can I go, please? I need to get back to Mattie." He needed to see his brother.

"You may." Ozpin agreed again. "I suggest that you do not tell him or anyone else what is down here. There are enemies everywhere and keeping Vale's location— and your identity— a secret is imperative to our success."

America's thoughts flashed to cold amber eyes. "I won't tell anyone." He promised.

He knew there was no other choice.


	11. Many Meetings

Canada looked at the clock. It was twenty seconds after he last saw the time. Twenty-one seconds. Twenty-two. Twenty-three…

The nation tapped his leg nervously and glanced around his silent dorm room. A few hours ago, America had been summoned to Ozpin's office. He had yet to return and Canada was growing worried. At first he had appreciated the peace and quiet but slowly grew to miss his brother's loud presence.

_I hope he isn't in trouble_ , he thought.  _But why else would Ozpin ask him to go?_  His stomach dropped.  _What if they found out we lied about our history? What if the Atlesian robots found him? What if—_

Canada took a calming breath and looked at the clock. It had been fifteen more seconds. He stood abruptly and walked out of the room, locking the door behind him.

_I might as well take a walk to clear my head._

He headed outside, feeling the nice breeze and the warm sun. The grounds were nearly empty, with most of the students out of school for break. A few still hung around in small groups but Canada did not know them very well so he avoided them. His steps took him towards the edge of the property and he stared out over the city of Vale. It looked so peaceful and calm, so different than it had during the breach.

Vague memories of smoke and fire prodded at his mind and Canada grimaced, pushing them away. Now was not the time to panic about Westwind again. He'd already made his friends and America worry about him, and it wasn't like he could explain why he was so affected. He still did not recall exactly what had happened or why he had freaked out so badly when CFVY mentioned the town. It was infuriating. A  _lot_  of things were infuriating, actually.

_We've been in Vale at least a month, and who knows how much longer we've been in Remnant,_ Canada thought.  _The other nations back home have to be worried about us by now, and we have no idea what has happened there since we came to this world. Our people are fine but they cannot go on without us forever. We need to find a way home. But we haven't been able to find answers anywhere. Argh! Why can't this be like one of America's movies where the answer conveniently pops up out of nowhere…?_

The hair on his nape prickled.

Someone was watching him.

Canada's heartbeat sped up and he had to force himself not to turn around. He was on Beacon Academy's grounds, in clear sight of a bunch of other students. Surely no one would try anything in such a public place, right? Then again, some people did not care who was a witness to their crimes—

A hand landed on his arm.

Canada shrieked and punched the person in the face.

" _Ow!_ "

An unfamiliar blond-haired boy staggered away from him, dancing wildly as he held his nose. Canada's gaze followed the monkey tail flicking about as the boy did his impromptu twirling routine before reluctantly looking to the Faunus's companion. The blue-haired boy was watching his friend wordlessly, looking torn between laughing and carefully backing away.

At first glance… the two looked like troublemakers. Canada felt bad for even thinking it but the two looked like the popular pretty boys from one of America's movies. And based on what tended to happen in those movies…

_Am I about to be bullied again?_

Maybe not. The blue-haired one had overcome his shock and his smile looked friendly enough as he offered his hand to Canada. "Hi. I'm Neptune. This is Sun. We're from Haven Academy."

At his name, 'Sun' finally stopped jumping around like a loon and turned back to them, nose still wrinkled in slight pain.

Canada turned pink but took the offered hand and shook it. "I'm Matthew. It is nice to meet you. Sorry for punching your friend in the face."

"No worries." Sun said, pushing between the two. "I should have known not to sneak up on you. I saw your fight with Emerald. You were a total badass!"

Canada ducked his head, embarrassed by the praise. "Thanks. Um. Is that why you came over…?" Oh  _Maple_  he was terrible at small talk. Particularly with people he  _accidentally attacked_.

Neptune shrugged, unbothered by his awkward question. "Partially. Sun and I were looking for friends of ours and saw you by yourself. We thought you might like some company."

Canada smiled even as he nervously fiddled with the hem of his sweatshirt. "That was thoughtful of you."

"Yeah, we're cool like that." Sun preened. He brightened. "Hey, do you think you can help us find our friends? They're from Team RWBY."

Canada's smile grew strained. "Oh. Um. They're not here. They left for break this morning, eh."

The two stared at him, open-mouthed, and Sun drooped dramatically with a dark aura. Canada and Neptune both inched away, unnerved by the intensity of his depression.

"They didn't say goodbye to me…" the blond-haired Faunus whispered, stunned.

Canada dithered awkwardly, playing with the strings on his hoodie. "Eh… Sorry?"

Sun immediately cast off his sorrow, waving vaguely. "It's not your fault. We should have kept track of the time. But since they're gone, would you like to hang out with us?"

They were asking  _him_? Just like that? But they just met!  _What?!_  "I… W-Well…" Canada stammered. He spotted a familiar head of blond hair leaving the building and nearly screamed in relief. "Am— Alfred! Over here!"

His brother looked his way. Something flashed through his expression but it was gone too quickly to be identified. America jogged over to them and gave a Hollywood grin.

"Hey, Mattie! Who are they? Did you make friends all by yourself? I'm so proud!" America hugged his brother, beaming.

Canada turned red and shoved him away. "Shut up. Al, these are Sun and Neptune from Haven. Sun, Neptune, this is my brother."

Sun shook Alfred's hand. "I can tell. Are you twins?"

"Yep." America said briefly, bobbing his head. "I'm the older one."

"No you're not." Canada denied. "Don't lie. You're three days younger."

The blue-eyed twin pouted and put a hand to his chest. "Well I'm older in my  _heart_."

"Whatever lets you sleep at night." Canada said. "So what did Ozpin want?"

America shrugged, grin still in place. "The Professor just wanted to see how we're settling in. What we think of the school, how we're doing with classes, if we made friends, stuff like that."

Canada carefully refrained from frowning. Something was wrong. America's smiles were too forced, as was his teasing. It was almost like he was  _making_  himself act as obnoxious as he usually did…

"Why didn't he ask me to come too then?" the violet-eyed nation asked.

There. A slight twitch where America's smile failed. It was back in place so fast Canada almost believed he had imagined the change. "He probably didn't want you freaking out and thinking we were going to get expelled."

"Haha." Canada muttered flatly. Dropping it for now, he turned back to Sun and Neptune. "What were you saying about A Simple Wok?"

"We were planning on going there for dinner and wondered if you wanted to come with us." Sun summarized quickly, tail twitching. "Seriously, that place has the best noodles in Vale! And it's not that expensive either."

"That sounds pretty good." Canada admitted, abruptly aware of how hungry he was. It was rather late and he did not want to eat dinner without his twin. "What do you think, Al?"

America was staring into the distance, smile still in place but eyes slightly foggy. Canada might have mistakenly believed the look was from boredom if not for the fact that his brother only got like that during meetings. Outside of meetings, it meant he was in his own little world. So why did he look so…  _sad_?

"Al?" Canada prompted and poked his brother.

America jumped. "W-what?"

"I asked if you wanted to go to A Simple Wok with Sun and Neptune." Canada repeated slowly.

America laughed and gave him a thumbs up. "Sounds great. Lead the way, dudes!"

They took an airship and headed into the city. The streets were busy because of both the time and the numerous students enjoying their freedom. A Simple Wok was packed but the four managed to find seats at the bar. Soon they were approached by the owner, and Canada was surprised to see the shopkeeper preparing to wait on them.

_I forgot he worked here too. Honestly he seems to run half the businesses in Vale._

The man spotted his former employees at the same time they spotted him. He smiled widely. "Boys! How've you been?"

"Hey, old man!" America greeted him happily. "We're doing good. How about you?"

"Fine, fine." The shopkeeper said airily. "I've been busy running the shop and restaurant." He stretched out a crick in his back and sighed. "At least I'll only have to focus on the noodle stand during the Festival…"

"Did you get new employees then?" Canada asked.

The shopkeeper nodded. "Yes, but they don't have your motivation. They do their job but that's it."

Canada winced. "Sorry."

The shopkeeper waved off his apology. "Now, now. Let's have none of that. I meant what I said: You two deserve the opportunity to follow your dreams. I won't take your choice from you."

America stared at the countertop, smile strained. Since his brother seemed preoccupied, Canada responded for the both of them.

"Thank you, sir. We really appreciate everything you've done for us."

The shopkeeper hummed vaguely, closed eyes faced towards America. "Are you doing okay, kid? You're looking a little peaky."

America straightened and grinned. "I'm fine. Some of the classes were a bit stressful. I'm still winding down."

"If you say so." He looked at the four boys and smiled. "Do you know what you'd like to order?"

"I'll have the regular, please." Canada said.

"Same." Neptune ordered.

"Me as well." Sun added.

"Make that four." America said.

"Not five?" Canada asked. "Usually you get at least two helpings."

The shopkeeper laughed. "Trust me, you won't need more than one of these."

He quickly got their order together, dropping gigantic bowls of noodles in front of each of them. Canada gaped at the amount while Sun and Neptune burst out laughing at his expression. Who wouldn't be surprised? The portions made America's look like appetizers. He swore the bowls were bigger than his torso!

"Yum." was all America said. He grabbed his bowl and scarfed his food like he always did.

Canada was not so easily appeased. "There's so much!"

"Of course there is." The shopkeeper said. "Young Huntsmen and Huntresses go through a lot of calories. Believe me when I say you'll eat all of it."

"But—" Canada spluttered. "B-But…"

"Don't pretend you never eat this much food." America said through stuffed cheeks. "I've seen you when there are pancakes."

Sun peered at the violet-eyed twin thoughtfully. "Does he like them as much as Nora?"

America stopped eating and looked him in the eye. " _More_  than Nora."

Sun paled. "That's terrifying. You're full of surprises, Matthew."

"Good?" Canada questioned faintly, still shocked by the size of the noodle bowl.

The shopkeeper chuckled. "Don't just sit there. Enjoy your food while it's hot."

Not wanting to insult the man by delaying any longer, Canada hesitantly grabbed his chopsticks and started eating. Both the broth and noodles were quite good, and he soon found himself drinking the remnants from the bowl. The shopkeeper chuckled and gathered up the empty dishes, leaving their drinks and depositing a receipt in front of Canada and another in front of Sun.

America picked up the receipt and blinked. "This is…"

Canada looked over his shoulder and frowned at the number as well. It was low. Much lower than he thought it would be.

"I gave you a discount." The shopkeeper explained. "It's for special former employees."

"Thank you." Canada said, touched.

Sun noted their conversation and leaned close to America, looking at the receipt and scowling. "Wait a minute…"

The shopkeeper frowned at him.

Sun ducked his head. "Here you go." He squeaked, handing over the Lien.

The shopkeeper was all smiles once more. "There's no rush. Take your time finishing those."

He nodded in the direction of their drinks and sped off. Canada relaxed against the counter and sipped his water, watching people walk by. His brother did the same thing next to him, though he was quick to start up a conversation with Sun by inquiring about their weapons. America was smiling, laughing, and talking like he always did. But Canada could not shake the feeling that something was wrong.

"Hey."

Canada looked up. Emerald Sustrai stood in front of him, smiling. Mercury Black was besides her, standing with his arms crossed as he looked around.

Canada's heartbeat sped up at the sight of them, and the only response he could muster was a stammered "H-hello."

Emerald maintained her grin. "Got room for two more?"

Canada glanced at the empty seats next to him and nodded. "Sure."

The two sat and looked over the menu. Heart pounding, Canada tried to listen to Sun and Neptune's conversation, noticing that America had gone silent. A glance at his brother showed that he had paled.

"So I just wanted to apologize." Emerald said suddenly. "I was a bit unsportsmanlike after our fight."

Mercury leaned past her and Canada had to resist the urge to lean away. "You know," he whispered conspiratorially. "I personally think it was because it was that time of— Ow!"

Still smiling, Emerald punched Mercury in the arm a second time. "Ignore him. I really am sorry though and was hoping we could start over."

"I'd l-like that." Canada forced himself to say.

Why wasn't America speaking? He could always count on his brother to draw attention away from him. Canada stole a glance at America and saw he was staring at the counter, a sickly sheen of sweat on his face.

Sun saw it too. His brow furrowed. "Is he okay?"

"I think he ate too much." Neptune said, worried.

"You alright there, buddy?" Mercury asked.

America flinched and turned green. "Excuse me."

He raced off, hands to his mouth.

Cursing softly, Canada looked to his new friends and… 'friends'. "I'm sorry. I have to go."

"See you around." Sun said briefly.

As Canada raced away, he could feel Emerald and Mercury's eyes on his back.

Five minutes later, Canada found America losing his dinner in a trash bin. The violet-eyed twin grimaced but bravely held his brother's hair out of his face as he emptied his stomach into the garbage. A few passerby shot the twins concerned looks while others wrinkled their noses and hurried away. After a short while, the retching stopped.

"Are you okay?" Canada asked quietly.

America shrugged.

Canada swallowed. "Is it your… home?" he whispered urgently.

Nations tended to get ill if something bad happened to their country, but thankfully, America shook his head.

"Do you think you can make it back to Beacon?" Canada asked.

America nodded, still not speaking.

Trying to ignore the unease that settled heavily in his chest, Canada guided his brother to an airship. The attendant looked unwilling to let the shivering, pale-faced twin onto the vehicle, but relented after a few sharp words from Canada. The violet-eyed nation regretted his short temper afterward, but he wanted to get his brother back to a place he could rest. As they slowly made their way towards the Beacon dorms, America finally broke his worrying silence.

"Sorry I left you alone with them." He croaked, voice strained.

Canada reached up and rubbed a hand through his brother's soft hair. "It's okay. You had other concerns. I don't think the shopkeeper would want you to puke in front of his customers."

"That's not…" America stopped speaking with a flinch, putting a hand to his head. "J-Just— I don't like those two."

Canada's forehead crinkled. "Sun and Neptune? They seem nice to me."

America's head snapped up. "Not them. The others."

_Emerald and Mercury?_  Canada stopped himself from saying their names aloud; mindful of all the places someone could listen in on their conversation from. "Same here. I don't know why but I can't bring myself to trust them."

"I think I…" America muttered something under his breath.

"What was that?" Canada asked.

"Nothing." His brother leaned his head on his shoulder, closing his eyes. "J-just don't go anywhere alone with those two or their teammates. Please."

Canada frowned, mind whirling. Did… Did America sound  _scared?_  "I promise I won't."

His twin relaxed against him. "Okay." He took a shuddering breath as they entered their room. "That was p-pretty fun. Except for the puking. Sun and Neptune seem like cool dudes."

Canada noticed the subject change but let it go. "I like them too." he admitted. "But we really shouldn't be getting attached. We're going to have to leave eventually."

America looked at the ground. "Yeah. Well, I don't know about you but I'm tuckered out. I'm going to bed."

He was still a little pale, but not nearly as blanched as he did before. Canada glanced at the clock. It was after ten. "Okay."

They got into their pajamas and Canada turned out the light. Soon enough, America's breathing slowed, and the violet-eyed nation relaxed, glad his brother had fallen asleep so quickly. His sudden illness was worrying but he claimed his people were fine so it could not be that serious. The thought comforted Canada and he rolled onto his side, falling asleep within minutes.

After Canada's breathing smoothed out and he fell asleep, America opened his eyes and stared at the ceiling.

"Was it them?" He whispered.

No one was awake to answer him.

XXXXXXX

"Okay! The second official meeting of Operation: Help Alfred and Matthew is a go!"

Teams RWBY and JNPR sat around the Xiao Long's living room, a bowl of popcorn between them and a movie playing on the television. No one was paying attention to the explosions happening on the screen, however, all focusing on the leader of their operation, Ruby Rose.

"I thought this was the third." Blake said, perplexed. "The second one was when we convinced your dad to let us come here."

"That's not important." Ruby blustered. "We are here to discuss The Plan."

"The Plan?" Weiss questioned.

Ruby nodded rapidly. "The Plan for how we're going to try to find Arthur."

"What  _is_  The Plan?" Blake asked. "We don't have enough time to go to Westwind and look for clues. Not that they'd even let us go to that area."

Yang threw a piece of popcorn into Nora's open mouth. "Normally I'd say screw the rules and let's go anyway, but Blake's right. It'll take too long to get there and search thoroughly."

"Would going there even assist us? The attack was weeks ago." Pyrrha pointed out. "All the evidence there will be long gone or would be picked up by local law enforcement by now."

"That's true." Ruby muttered, tapping her chin. "Where else can we get information about a Grimm attack and the survivors though?"

"Where can you what now?"

The teens looked up, spotting Taiyang in the doorway. The Huntsman held up the cups of cocoa he was carrying on a tray.

"I've brought an offering of sugary drinks. May I enter?" he asked, eyes twinkling.

"You may." Yang said primly, unable to hold back a grin.

Taiyang walked inside and set the cocoa beside the popcorn. Nora grabbed a cup and downed it in an instant. She reached for another, only to be smacked away by Ren. The ninja picked up a steaming mug and smiled.

"Thank you, sir."

The other teens copied him and thanks were muttered all around.

"No problem." Taiyang said. "What is this about a Grimm attack?"

"We need to find information about missing people from Westwind, sir." Weiss said boldly.

"I heard about that attack. It was… devastating. Why do you want to look into it?" Taiyang questioned.

"Our two friends' older brother is missing." Yang explained. "They got separated from him when the Grimm attacked their village."

Taiyang's face grew solemn. "So you want to find their brother?" At their nods, he sighed. "You might not be able to. Outside of the large cities, people go missing all the time and they are rarely found. Sometimes they aren't even declared missing because there is little paperwork left behind to prove their identity. It's hard to keep a consistent and accurate census because people move in and out of the Wilds all the time, so you could spend years looking for someone and never find proof they even exist."

"Well Arthur does exist!" Ruby blurted passionately. "And we need to at least  _try_  to find him. Alfred and Matthew deserve to get their brother back."

Taiyang's gaze roamed over each of them. He exhaled and ran a hand through his hair. "That is a wonderful thing to do for your friends, but you need to be prepared to find results you don't like. This story… might not have a happy ending." His blue eyes closed. "In fact, they often don't."

The teens went silent, each falling into their own thoughts. The twisting in Yang's stomach had nothing to do with the hot chocolate. What if Dad was right? What if a miracle had not happened and Matthew and Alfred's brother was dead? What if instead of triumphantly returning to the twins with good news, the teams found out something awful and had to inform the brothers?

"This one will have a happy ending." Ruby said determinedly, silver eyes blazing. "I know it will. And if we don't look, we'll never find it. We need to at least  _try_."

Taiyang studied her for a long pause. Yang could see his stern resolve crumbling. Soon enough, their dad sighed. "I could let you access the Huntsmen database…"

"Thanks, Dad!" Yang cheered.

Taiyang smiled and moved to the small console that connected them to the CCT. He logged in and stepped back. "There you go."

The teens rushed forward and Yang typed in the search parameters. Their request came up and a few of them yelped.

"How are there so many Arthurs?" Ruby squeaked, unable to process the number of names in front of them. "And lots of the files are classified too…"

Weiss's gaze flicked over the lines of text and accompanying images in front of her. A single blue eye began twitching. "Do we even know if he's a civilian? Or what he looks like?"

"Early twenties, green eyes, blond hair, big eyebrows, and a grumpy expression. Alfred described him like that." Jaune said. He leaned forward and brought up an advanced search. "You should probably specify Westwind as a location to narrow it down…"

"Put the Wilds as a search parameter as well." Pyrrha advised. "His file might be under there."

Jaune did as she said and the results came up. There were still over three hundred names.

"Try adding 'Jones'." Blake suggested.

Seven Arthur Joneses from Westwind or the Wilds came up.

All were confirmed as deceased.

Yang saw Ruby's expression crumple and jumped to the rescue. "How do we know that's his last name? Matthew and Alfred are full siblings but they and Arthur might not be. They could have a different surname."

Ruby perked up at her words. Weiss was not as pleased.

The Heiress gave a small screech of frustration. "This is hopeless! We don't have enough information or time to find  _anything_."

"Ahem."

The teens all looked at the door, realizing that Taiyang had been standing there the entire time. The Hunstman chuckled at their expressions. "Yes, I'm still here. If I could make a suggestion, how about you ask your friends some things and get more data? Once you have it, I'll ask your uncle to look into it. He tends to have access to information on these types of things."

Ruby and Yang simultaneously lunged for their father, hugging him. "Thank you thank you thank you!"

Taiyang laughed. "I'm glad I could help. I'll go text Qrow now. He tends to take a while to respond so by the time he does, you should have more info for him to work with."

"Tell him we said 'hi' and hope he'll be back from his mission soon." Ruby said.

"Will do." Taiyang walked out.

"So now what?" Jaune questioned eventually. "We wait?"

"But waiting is  _boring_!" Nora complained. "I thought we were going to find Arthur and go on a quest to rescue him from the Grimm Dragon!"

Ren sighed. "There's no such thing as a Grimm Dragon, Nora. And if there was, I'm sure Arthur would not be its captive."

"How do  _you_  know that?" the excitable girl demanded.

Blake interrupted the potential argument— also known as Nora going into a rant about how Grimm Dragons were totally real— before it could start. "Unless we want to go through hundreds of pages of names, we should put our search on hold for now. Let's enjoy our vacation until we can do more."

"I guess…" Ruby said sadly. "I just thought we'd be able to find out more…"

"Oh well. It looks like Operation HAM is on hold." Yang muttered. "Hey, does anyone else want a ham sandwich now?"

Ruby threw a pillow, hitting her sister in the face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Even after all this time, I can't remember if the 'Huntsmen Database' is actually a thing in RWBY or if I'm confusing it for the Hunter Database thing from Hunter x Hunter. Meh. I guess it doesn't matter. :/


	12. Amber and Copper

America couldn't sleep. Every time he closed his eyes he saw Amber in that pod, laying silent and helpless as her life slowly slipped away. How aware was she? Was she in pain? What did it feel like to have her Aura— her  _soul_ — torn into three pieces?

He absently touched his chest, feeling his heartbeat. Part of Vale's soul was inside him. That sounded so freaking disturbing. And it was. If he concentrated, was that slight oddness he felt simply his nervousness or Vale's terrified presence?

What would happen when he was given the rest of Vale's Aura? Not if, but  _when_. The process had already been started. He just had to agree to finish it. He didn't have a choice if he still wanted to consider himself a hero. He either agreed and became Vale, or didn't and risked letting Amber's power go to a monster. The truth was there was no one else who could do this. Only him. The 'choice' should be easy.

So why was he so scared?

He knew why.

Loss of identity.

It was only a possibility, but if a piece of Vale's soul gave him enough memory to recall the Kingdom's entire textbook history then what would the whole Aura do to him?

America could guess. He might be completely overwritten. He could lose everything that made him  _him_. He'd lose everything he ever fought for. His identity, his freedom, his memories, his mind, and maybe even his soul. He could vanish like Alfred F. Jones, the personification of the United States of America had never existed. Was he prepared to make that sacrifice? Could he do that to save a world that was not even his own? Could he risk his own country and people for Remnant?

He wanted to be strong. He wanted to be a hero. He wanted to be important. He wanted to save the day.

He didn't want this.

_Why? Why did it have to be me?_

Canada slept through the night. America did not sleep at all. At six in the morning he finally gave up and got out of bed. He glanced at his Scroll and noticed a text from Ruby. She wanted to know Arthur's last name? Weird. After responding, he looked at his peacefully resting brother and shook his head. He could let Mattie sleep in today. They were on vacation.

The blue-eyed nation showered and got dressed before heading to the teacher's lounge to get some coffee. The students had finally gotten some for themselves too, but it wasn't as good in his opinion. Besides, if Ozpin or Glynda caught him, it wasn't like they could punish him.

_Already using my situation for pity points, huh?_  America mused darkly.

He got his coffee without incident or needing to use said 'pity points'. Setting down the extra mug, he looked to his sleeping brother. He predicted it would be a long while before Canada woke by himself.

_He's always such a late riser,_  America thought fondly _. If not for me, he'd be late to everything. School, work, meetings… I'd always have to call him to get him up on time back home. What would he do without me?_

_What_ _**will** _ _he do without me?_

America watched his coffee ripple, shaken by his trembling hands. He hurriedly downed the rest of the hot liquid and smacked his lips. It was now six twenty-eight. He estimated that Canada would not rejoin the world of the living until ten or eleven.

_I can't just sit here for hours._ If he did he'd start thinking again.  _Maybe I should go see if anyone else is up._

He left a note on the bedside table for Canada and strode out with Cobalt Striker and his Scroll. America let his mind wander as he walked, giving vague greetings to the few other early risers. Most were 'older' students who were used to getting up, many of whom were heading out to train. Always ready for excitement and monster-fighting, America had half a mind to join them.

_If I tried, would Glynda stop me at the gate? They can't have their precious Vale in danger after all._

His chest seemed to constrict, pressing in on his lungs. He halted in the hall and noticed he was in front of the elevator that led to Ozpin's office.

_And Amber's Vault._ America squeezed his eyes shut.  _I'm so pathetic. One day in and I can't stop thinking about what I have to do. They can pretend all they want but I don't have a choice…_

America considered going up there and getting it over with. He knew what he had to do. His conscience would not let him choose otherwise. But the thought of stepping into that machine and maybe never coming out took his breath away. He had so much he still needed to do. He needed to say bye to Mattie and apologize to England and play games with Japan and invent with Tony and even pay off his debt to China and—

_Stop it. I'm not doing the transfer today. I have time left._ He wiped sweaty palms on his pant legs.  _I— I can't do this alone. I need to talk to someone. But they told me not to tell Mattie. It's too easy for someone to overhear and if they tried to get information out of him…_

His mind flashed to amber eyes.  _Stop being paranoid, brain. You're not helping by being all vague. I have no proof that it was them other than my weird feelings. How am I supposed to explain to Ozpin and the others that I can't breathe whenever Cinder, Emerald, or Mercury are around and I suspect that it's because they attacked Vale?_

America shook his head in disgust. He honestly did not know if the vague feeling of panic he got whenever he looked at Emerald, Mercury, or the amber-eyed woman— Cinder— was because of stress or if Vale was trying to tell him something. It disturbed him to think that the other nation already had enough presence in his mind to make him have such a reaction, but he also cursed Vale's inability to share more proof of their possible guilt.

_Ugh. It's like having a glitchy GPS for a copilot_ , America thought.  _Instead of telling you a street name it randomly tells you to turn left into what appears to be a ditch._

America turned away from the elevator and froze mid-step as a thought struck him.  _Wait… Amber and I share an Aura… What if we have a connection now or something? I've been having nightmares since we got into Vale. What if they're from her? Maybe I can talk to her and figure out what happened!_

The idea was a fantasy at best but in a world with superpowers like Semblances, maybe it had merit. America got into the elevator, pressing the button to reach Ozpin's office. As he rode, his unease spread into his stomach and limbs, making them feel heavy and stiff.

_Relax. If Ozpin was going to shove me into the machine by force, he would have done so when I was unconscious._

The doors opened with a ding. Ozpin was sitting at his desk, a fresh cup of coffee steaming within reach. He looked up from the paper he was perusing and immediately set it down, welcoming America with a smile.

"Hello, Mister Jones."

"Hi." Wow, was that really his voice? He sounded so… small.

Ozpin studied him over his dark glasses. "It is nice to see you this fine morning. Is there something I may I help you with?"

_Does he think I'm here to tell him I agree to do the transfer? Of course he does. I can't say no._  America swallowed roughly. "I-I—" The words caught in his throat.

Ozpin's brown eyes softened. "Don't push yourself to make this decision, Alfred. I don't want you to rush into this."

_Stop acting like I have a choice!_  America wanted to scream at him. Instead he took a breath. "I'd like to see Amber, please."

The Headmaster's eyebrows went up. "May I inquire as to why?"

America licked his dry lips. "I've been having… nightmares and… feelings. I… I think they might be from her."

Ozpin's eyes grew sharp. "You think you have an empathic connection with her?"

"I, w-well—" And now he sounded like an anxious Canada. Great. "Maybe? I just want to see…"

He trailed off, feeling more like an incompetent child than ever. If England saw him now he'd probably scoff at his immature uneasiness. That or gather him into a hug. It would depend on the grumpy nation's mood.

Ozpin rose from his chair and grabbed his cane. "Of course. Follow me."

The elevator ride was completely silent. America reached up and rubbed the inside of his elbow nervously, eyes darting about the claustrophobic space. This was a bad idea. He was in the school of horror movie bad ideas again. Why did he keep getting in these situations? At least he had his Scroll this time in case anything happened.

They walked down the dark hallway, their footsteps loud and echoing in the wide chamber. America glanced at the gloomy halls that went off to the sides and found his voice.

"What's down there?"

"Things from a time long past." The Headmaster said calmly. "Those which I hope you never have to discover."

America wisely chose not to press the subject.

They reached Amber's pod, which was eerily lit in the dim vault. The blue-eyed nation took a moment to study the machine that kept Vale alive, simultaneously awed and disgusted by the piece of technology. She was breathing. Her heart was beating. But was she aware?

"I'd like to talk to her alone." America said quietly. "Can you leave us?"

"Of course." Ozpin agreed steadily.

America listened to the click of his shoes and can on the tile until he could no longer hear it. He did not know if the Headmaster was truly gone. Most likely he was probably watching them through cameras somewhere. That was fine. The blue-eyed nation could pretend they were alone.

"Hi…"  _Great start, Alfred. Your social skills are unparalleled._  "Um. I'm Alfred. Alfred F. Jones. I'm the Hero! I… don't know if you already know that."

There was no response from Vale.

"I just… wanted to see you, I guess. And talk to you. I don't know if you can hear me, but I guess it's pretty lonely down here in the dark." America's chuckle died quickly. He looked at the bottom of Amber's pod. "I have part of your Aura. Part of your soul. I can feel it inside me, and because of it, I can feel… Vale. Your people, your history… so many things that aren't mine." His eyes shut tightly. "I want to help them and save them. But is that because I'm a hero or because those protective feelings come from  _you_? How much of me is still me? How much of me is  _your soul influencing me?!_ "

His shout echoed through the lonely vault, slowly growing quieter until it died an anticlimactic death. America wiped at his eyes and looked at Amber's calm, scarred face. "There's only a small bit of your soul in me and I already can't see the line between us. At best, when the rest comes in I'll have some type of split personality or can access your knowledge at will. At worst, I won't exist anymore  _at all_. How is that fair?"

Vale remained silent.

America sniffed lightly. "That was mean. I mean, you're dying. You're going to have your soul ripped out. This could end the other way around and you'll be the one to no longer exist. But… if we don't do this… your power will go to a monster that will hurt your people. Surely you don't want that?" His voice lowered. "I know I wouldn't."

There was no noise except the soft beeping of the machine.

America stepped forward and gently touched the glass that separated him from Amber. "I guess we both don't have a choice about what happens. It's going to happen, one way or the other. Neither of us wanted this, yet here we are. We're both the sacrifice…"

He lowered his head and let his hand fall. He heard footsteps approach but did not look up until Ozpin placed his hand on his shoulder.

"Did you find what you were looking for, Alfred?" he asked softly.

America shrugged. "Not really. I didn't get any huge revelations or memories or anything. But…"

The Headmaster studied him. "But…?"

America swallowed and stood up straight. "Vale didn't ask for this. Neither did I. But… to protect her—  _our_  people, w-we need to be the heroes that save everyone."  _We need to be ready to sacrifice everything for everyone._

Ozpin let him struggle to speak, waiting patiently for him to finish.

America gathered himself and met the Headmaster's eyes. "I'll do it. I'll accept the rest of Vale's Aura."

There was no reason to delay in saying yes. America could never say no and risk people getting hurt. He could never risk letting Vale's power go to someone who would use it for evil. He was a hero, and a hero was selfless and unafraid. This world was not his own, but he had a duty to protect it all the same. No, it was not just a duty. He also held a  _desire_  to protect it, because even though they had not known each other long, Remnant was Team RWBY and JNPR's home. His new friends…

_Will I remember any of them?_

Ozpin relaxed. "All right. Thank you for making the decision, Alfred. We will not do the procedure yet. There are certain precautions I would like to implement to… decrease the chance of side effects."  _'To increase the chances of your survival,'_  went unsaid. "I will contact you personally with the details later. By my estimate, we should be able to proceed after the end of the Vytal Festival."

That was about a week and a half away. So the deadline was the same. The only difference was that Alfred was now a willing participant.

"I understand." He said, barely keeping his voice level. He thought of something and touched his Scroll, which sat innocently in his pocket. "Um, can you leave again? There's something I'd like to do right now and I can't do it anywhere else without being overheard..."

Ozpin nodded in assent and left him alone. America had a feeling that the Headmaster was not watching this time. He sat against one of the plain walls of the vault and took out his Scroll. He carefully adjusted the lighting so his face was clear and smiled at the camera.

Okay, that was more of a pained grimace than a smile.

America tried again, and again, until finally the grin looked natural. He took a breath, smiled, and pressed the recording button on his Scroll.

"Hey, Mattie…"

XXXXXXX

At ten-thirty Canada stumbled out of his bed like a concussed bear rising from hibernation. The violet-eyed nation blinked at the clock blearily before shooting his brother an accusing glare.

"You let me sleep in." Canada said suspiciously.

America shrugged and settled more comfortably in his chair. "It's break. We don't have to work or anything."

Canada squinted at the comic his twin was holding. "What's that?"

"The latest X-Ray and Vav story." America answered, showing him the cover. "Jaune let me borrow it."

The violet-eyed nation frowned. "No he didn't."

America smiled. "Well, it just so happened to be in his room."

"JNPR's dorm was locked."

"No it wasn't."

" _Al!_ "

"What? I'll put it back. They won't even notice!"

Canada shook his head irritably. "Since when did you steal?"

"It's not stealing. It's borrowing without permission." America protested. "And I got bored and didn't want to wake you with a video game."

"There's this thing called a 'mute button', you know." Canada sighed.

"Hm." was America's reply as he flipped to another page in the comic. "This isn't Batman but it's actually really good."

"Don't get any ideas." Canada warned him.

"I still think a giant robot is an excellent idea." His brother sniffed. He stood up and smacked Canada atop the head with the comic book. "Now get up, lazy butt. We're going into town with Sun and Neptune."

The violet-eyed nation fended off his attack. "Why?"

America smiled. "To have fun, of course! There's this awesome movie that's out that we want to see. I want to compare them to mine from home."

Canada headed towards the bathroom. "When did you discuss this?"

"While you were asleep. Duh." America walked over and shoved his twin into the bathroom. "Now hurry up! Time's a-wasting."

"What's the rush?" Canada muttered, but he hurried to oblige.

Two and a half hours later, four teens walked out of the movie theater. America, Neptune, and Sun had huge grins while Canada's was a little more subdued.

"That was so cool!" America crowed. "The special effects were awesome!"

"I agree." Canada admitted. "I honestly thought those Grimm were real."

"Maybe they were." Sun said conspiratorially.

"No, man." Neptune said flatly. "Just no."

Sun slung his arm around his partner's shoulders. "But they looked so  _real_. Maybe one of the filmmakers can summon Grimm!"

The blue-haired boy shook his head. "Unless they're an illegitimate Schnee, I highly doubt—"

"Salutations!"

The boys leapt into the air with impressive shrieks and spun around.

"Gah!" America yelped. "Where did you come from?"

The orange-haired girl behind them tipped her head thoughtfully. "That was Ruby's reaction as well. Is that a standard greeting…?"

"No. No it is not." America said hurriedly before she could get any ideas. "Aren't you that girl that came in From Dusk Till Dawn? Penny?"

"Yes. You remembered me!" She beamed. "It is nice to see you again, Alfred F. Jones."

"Likewise." America said, relaxing. Either that or his shoulders were slumping in despair. It was difficult to tell.

Penny turned to Canada, still grinning. "And you must be Matthew Williams, Alfred's brother."

Canada shook her hand gingerly. "Hello. Nice to meet you, eh." He gestured at Sun and Neptune. "These are—"

"Sun Wukong and Neptune Vasilias." Penny said promptly. "Sun and I have fought together before."

"I wouldn't say 'together'…" the monkey Faunus mused. "More like we separately kicked the butts of a bunch of people from the same group…"

"So what are you doing in Vale?" Canada asked out of politeness.

"I was around doing unimportant things and I spotted you coincidentally." Penny hiccupped. "I wasn't told to watch over you or anything." She hiccupped again.

America twitched.

Canada wondered how he and his brother kept attracting such… unique characters. "That's… good." He coughed awkwardly. "I don't think Alfred asked last time, but are you here for the Vytal Festival?"

Penny nodded. "I'm here to fight for Atlas Academy."

This time it was Canada who twitched. "I-Is that so?"

"Yes. I'm here with my team. They're… not around right now." Her smile fell the slightest bit. "We only get together when they're ordered to spend time with me."

That raised a lot of questions Canada did not want to think about, but he did not have the heart to pry. Neither did the others, apparently.

America merely grinned. "Well, since you're here you might as well hang out with us. We just got done with a movie and were going to get ice cream. Want to come, friend?"

Canada noted the blatant addition of the final term. Penny did as well. She nodded so quickly the violet-eyed nation was surprised she did not get whiplash. "I would  _love_  to come."

She walked beside Sun with an expression similar to a child who had received Christmas presents early. Canada slowly began to suspect that was America's intention. Did the usually oblivious nation notice the strange girl's desperate need for companionship and decide to give her it?

That was so like America… but it also wasn't. His brother tended to not be the most observant soul. Why had he so easily and kindly— as in refrained from calling her weird to her face— accepted Penny into their group after seemingly being put off by her presence?

The violet-eyed nation had to know. He spoke quietly to his brother. "What was that about?"

"What do you mean?" America asked.

"You're being very…"  _Selfless. Thoughtful. Observant._  "…friendly today."

His brother pouted. "That's cold, Mattie. I'm always friendly. Stop saying weird things and let's just enjoy—"

He froze. Canada followed America's gaze, eyes going wide.

A little girl had wandered into the street and a truck was barreling towards her.

Canada barely took a step before America was at the girl's side, shoving her out of the way. The violet-eyed brother could not hold back a scream as his twin was hit, the truck going completely over him. He barely heard the brakes of the truck screech as a limp blue-clothed form was left in the road. He  _wasn't moving._

Canada ran to his brother's side. " _Al!_ "

He fell to his knees beside his brother, desperately scanning his body, and was relieved to spot no blood or protruding bones. On cue, blue eyes fluttered open and America groaned.

"Ow…"

"Are you okay?" Sun asked urgently.

Canada had not even heard the others approach. The Faunus crouched next to the twins and helped a wincing America into a sitting position. The blue-eyed nation gasped and looked around frantically. He relaxed upon spotting the now-crying girl in her mother's arms.

"Is she hurt?" he asked.

"No." the woman sounded on the brink of tears herself. "You saved her. Oh my God, you saved her life.  _Thank you!_ "

America jumped when she hugged him, the girl gripped tightly in her other arm. The nation noticed the kid looking at him and smiled gently. "You okay, little princess?"

She nodded mutely, eyes wide.

"I'm glad." America said genuinely. "Just make sure you don't run into the road again, okay?"

Her lip wobbled. "There was a kitty…" she whispered.

Canada looked around and saw no sign of the feline.

America did not either. "I'm sure she's fine. She's probably back with her family right now."

That cheered the little girl up and she stopped crying. They all got to their feet and Canada noticed the crowd they had attracted. To his horror, he spotted what appeared to be a reporter and camera crew among them, which were quickly approaching.

_Were they nearby doing something for the upcoming Vytal Festival?_

America spotted them as well. "Time to go. I really don't want to get interviewed."

Giving the mom and daughter one last smile he grabbed Canada and Sun's hands and hurried off. Luckily, the news team seemed intent on interviewing the driver and the mother first so the teens got away.

"Phew. That was close." America breathed once they were safe.

"Indeed." Penny said, expression strained. "Why did you do that?"

There was something in her tone that Canada could not place. Was it admiration or disappointment? Both? Was she upset America nearly got hurt? The way she hovered around the twin gave evidence for the last point.

"I had to help." America told her. "It's what a hero would do."

He said it so simply but to him it  _was_  that simple. Stupid, noble, self-sacrificing, idiotic brother.

Sun slung his arm around America's shoulders. "Well, since the hero doesn't want the public to shower him with praise, how about I get him whatever ice cream he wants."

America grinned.

The monkey Faunus paled. "I'm going to regret saying that, aren't I? Whatever. You deserve it."

Was it just Canada's imagination, or was America's smile more genuine? "Thanks."

XXXXXXX

"What are you  _thinking_ , Ozpin?"

The Headmaster of Beacon Academy did not look up from the Scroll he was perusing as Ironwood entered, even when the General angrily halted in front of him and laid his hands on his desk.

"What are you speaking of, James?" he asked calmly.

"Jones agreed to do the transfer. The machine is ready.  _Why_  are we waiting?" Ironwood demanded.

Ozpin sipped his coffee. "Your account of the boys' escape made me think of something. When the transfer was interrupted, the only reason Vale's Aura did not return to her was because Matthew severed the pipe connecting her to Alfred. If he had not, her Aura would have been sucked out of Alfred and back to her because of the incomplete bonding process. With that in mind, I have an idea for a slight adjustment in your machine. It should stop Vale's Aura from being forced back into her body if something were to happen. Picture it like a pair of scissors cutting a string or a valve being slammed shut, if you will. That is why I want to wait."

"That's unnecessary." Ironwood insisted. "If we do the transfer now, there is no chance of it being interrupted."

Ozpin lowered his Scroll and studied him. "We both know that it is unlikely Alfred will emerge from that machine as himself. When a resurrected nation remembers who they are, the human personality ceases to exist far more often than not." He said quietly. "Are you truly so eager to possibly destroy a young man's mind, James? And here I thought you cared enough to go behind your superiors' backs and create paperwork for those boys in case they escaped. Or am I mistaken as to how they still had proper identifications during captivity?"

The General's jaw clenched. He stood up straight, glaring down at Ozpin. "Your caution and indecision will only bring misery and chaos in the end, Ozpin. We need to be proactive in this war."

"And we will be." The Headmaster replied just as firmly. "Just give Alfred a couple weeks, James. He deserves to have time to say goodbye."

XXXXXXX

Emerald watched Cinder carefully, heart pounding in her chest. Amber eyes observed her intently, making her feel like her soul was about to burst into flames.

"You are certain?" Cinder asked neutrally.

"Yes ma'am." The thief said. "After luring the girl into the street, I used my Semblance on Jones to show the truck swerving and hitting his brother. He didn't even react. He's… He's completely immune to my hallucinations." It left a bitter taste in her mouth to admit it but Cinder needed to know the results of Emerald's test.

The dangerous woman tipped her head and drummed her fingers on her leg. "You said Williams seemed confused at first but became unaffected?"

Emerald nodded. "Yes."

Amber eyes drifted to the screen playing the news. A clip of the daring rescue by a 'mysterious teen' was playing, caught live by Cyril Ian and his crew. "I see. He could be a threat to us then. And now Jones is a local hero…" She smirked. "We can use this to our advantage and kill two birds with one stone. I think we need to adjust our plans a little bit."

Emerald leaned forward eagerly. "Tell me what I need to do."


	13. Vytal Festival

The week vanished in a flash. America and Canada spent most of their vacation with Sun, Neptune, and Penny, and it was over faster than the blue-eyed twin thought possible. The rest of the students would be returning today, Teams RWBY and JNPR among them. The Vytal Festival would start tomorrow. And soon after that…

Needless to say, it was getting a bit harder for America to keep a smile on his face. Luckily, Canada seemed to think that his worsening mood was because of the end of 'vacation' and had taken to reminding his brother that they would not have classes during the Festival.

America desperately hoped the gentle nation did not discover the real reason for his melancholy. If Canada was stressing about their situation already, what would the news about Vale do to his brother? Thank God Mattie had not remembered anything, even when they accidentally stumbled upon a holographic projection of Ironwood that was presenting new Atlesian Knights. Canada was obviously uncomfortable around the robots but he didn't freak out or collapse.

Which brought America to the present, standing in front of his mirror and peering at his reflection. He hadn't slept in a week and he looked… awful. His skin was noticeably pale and he had prominent purplish bags under his eyes. America traced a dark smudge. Maybe he should try make-up? Nah. He would do it badly and Canada would notice. What would be more suspicious? Having smudges or trying failing to hide them? Besides, he did not even have cosmetics to use.

America moved his glasses, pleased that they helped cover the marks a bit. Hopefully no one would notice. He exited the bathroom and took in the time. Smirking, he swaggered over to Canada's bed and grabbed the edge of the mattress.

"GOOD MORNING, BRO!"

America cheerfully left his brother on the floor with the upended mattress on top of him, ignoring his screeches and cursing. He had to wonder how many students used Canada's shrieks as an alarm by now. When he returned, two cups of coffee in hand, his brother accepted one with a grunt.

" _Why_  must you do that?" he complained after a few sips.

America smiled sweetly. "Because it's tradition. And it's fun. You really should be used to it."

"I'll never get used to you." Canada muttered.

America shrugged. "True. But at least I did have a reason today. We have to meet Ruby and the others at the docks. They're returning today!"

Some of his excitement infected his brother for Canada perked up and smiled. "That's right. The Vytal Festival starts tomorrow…"

America's smile remained stiffly in place. "Yep. Now hurry up, Mattie! We gotta go!"

After urging his brother through his morning routine and out the door as quickly as possible, the twins arrived at the docks. Sun, Neptune, and Penny were already there, with the orange-haired girl looking much too happy. America guessed it was because she was so overjoyed to be included. When he'd asked if she wanted to join them, he was honestly surprised that she did not explode from excitement. Her first words to the twins only strengthened his belief.

"Hello Alfred and Matthew, my friends! I am so glad that you asked me to be here."

"Hey, Penny." America said with a wave. "Nice to see you too. And I told you yesterday: We all want to see Team RWBY so we might as well wait for them together."

"I know." She said with a bouncy nod. "I would never have thought of greeting them together after their return. It is so much fun being with friends instead of alone."

She sounded so happy America could not help but give her a genuine smile. Truthfully, he really should not like Penny. It was not her overbearing and sometimes clueless personality that was the problem— How could it be when America himself was like that?— but the fact that she had been asked to 'watch over' the nation by someone. Since she was from Atlas, that someone had to be Ironwood.

The thought that Ozpin's group believed he needed a guard was irritating, but America could not find it in his heart to reject the girl. It was obvious that she was lonely, and he wouldn't be a hero if he denied her the opportunity to make friends. It also helped that Penny seemed more focused on said friend-making instead of watching America's every move. He had to wonder how much she knew though…

"There it is." Sun said suddenly, pointing at the sky.

Sure enough, an airship was flying in, slowly descending and docking at the edge of the landing platform. Its engines winded down and a throng of students escaped from the ship, a familiar blond-haired figure at the front.

Jaune went straight for the trash bin and emptied his stomach into it, making America grimace even from a safe distance.

Neptune gave a self-depreciating chuckle. "Our friends, everybody."

They all approached at the same time the others from Teams RWBY and JNPR joined the poor knight. Weiss spotted them first and practically ran over, glad for an excuse to get away from Jaune.

"Alfred, Matthew, Penny, Neptune…" Her smile faded. "…Sun."

The Faunus didn't seem to notice her less-than-happy reaction to his presence, instead watching Jaune with a curiously disgusted expression.

"Hi, Weiss." America greeted casually. "How was your break?"

"Tolerable." She said with a sniff. "It would have been relaxing if not for certain individuals."

"Hey, vacations are for partying." Yang said, punching Weiss in the shoulder. The Heiress staggered and gave her a scowl that Yang ignored.

"What you and Nora did was not 'partying'. It was being a loud annoyance that would not let me sleep." She growled.

"I'm so sorry I didn't let you get your beauty rest, Snow Queen." Yang said, straight faced.

Weiss glared at her.

"Is Jaune okay?" Canada interjected, eyes on the poor knight.

Pyrrha had joined him at the garbage bin as silent support, one hand on his shoulder and her mouth set in a grimace.

Yang waved vaguely. "Vomit Boy is fine. He always gets airsick. I'm just glad he aimed for the trash."

"Yang, don't be mean." Ruby chided as she came over. She spotted Penny and gasped. "Penny?"

"Ruby!"

She crushed the surprised girl in a hug. America and Canada winced in sympathy. Soon their empathic pain became real as Nora snuck up behind the twins and decided they were feeling left out.

"Ow…" Ruby squeaked.

"Air…" Canada gasped.

" _Why_ …?" America groaned.

Yang cackled at their misfortune while Sun and Blake snickered behind their hands. America broke free of the death hug, simultaneously rescuing his brother.

"Thanks for the help, dudes." He grumbled.

"We thought it was wise to stay out of the way." Blake said, lips twitching. She glanced at her fellow Faunus and nodded. "Hello, Sun."

"Hey." He paused and frowned, eyes narrowing. "Wait. Don't 'hello' me. "You didn't say goodbye to us!"

Blake shrugged. "I forgot about you. Sorry."

Sun drooped, despondent. "I thought we were friends…"

They started walking back towards the school.

"So how was your vacation?" Ruby asked. "I see you made some new friends."

"Yes. We all expanded our social circles." Canada said with a tiny smile.

"We had ice cream and played video games and did so many things!" Penny shared happily. "We didn't paint our nails or talk about cute boys though." She sounded disappointed.

"We didn't either. Maybe we will next time." Yang said with a laugh.

"How about 'no'." Weiss growled.

America listened in as they continued to talk, content to let Canada carry the conversation. He was so glad their friends were back. Mattie was so comfortable with them. Maybe he wouldn't be that lonely when…

"Alfred?" He looked at Pyrrha and met concerned green eyes. "Are you feeling all right?"

America grinned. "Yeah. I'm great! Why?"

She hesitated. "You seem…" She paused and shook her head. "Never mind. It's nothing. You're just being a little quiet."

"Well, I can't be the center of attention all the time." He hoped his chuckle sounded natural.

Pyrrha nodded slowly. "If you say so."

"Did you work on your team attacks during break?" America asked, eager to change the topic of discussion.

"You bet we did. Team JNPR has this Tournament in the bag." Jaune crowed.

"Excuse me? That's what you think." Yang scoffed. "Team RWBY is going to win."

"Nope." Sun disagreed. "Team SSSN is going to bring home the gold, not any of you."

The three blond-haired students began squabbling about whose team would be the champions, making many of their friends roll their eyes or laugh. As a neutral party, America decided to intervene.

"I'm sure you all will do great. But… if Mattie and I were in the Tournament we'd definitely kick all your butts."

"Is that a challenge Sky-Eyes?" Yang asked with a fierce grin.

"No it isn't." Canada said immediately.

Burning purple eyes focused on him and he froze like a deer in the headlights. "That reminds me… Matthew Williams, I challenge your Kingdom to war!" She grabbed him by the hood and dragged him towards RWBY's dorm. "I'm going to beat you this time, Emperor Curly!"

"Help me…" Canada whispered before he was pulled around the corner.

America laughed. "Have fun, bro!" He turned to his remaining friends. "Who wants to see Mattie win again?"

"I'm more interested in Yang's hissy fit when he does." Blake admitted.

"I am confused. Why are Matthew and Yang going to war?" Penny asked.

"Don't worry about it. You'll see soon enough." Ruby told her. "Come on! We don't want to miss this."

She led the pack as they hurried after the two blonds.

Needless to say, Canada won again, leaving Yang screeching that she would soon reclaim her title. As America sat with his friends, he laughed alongside them, heart feeling lighter than it had been since he found out about Vale. He wished things could stay this way forever.

He wished he had more time.

XXXXXXX

The roars of the cheering crowd echoed in Canada's ears long after he and America left the stadium. The fights for the Tournament were done for the day. Team RWBY had defeated Team ABRN, their first opponents in the Tournament, showing all of Remnant the  _amazingness_ — Ruby and America's words, not his—of their skills. Team JNPR had displayed their gained prowess as well, with Nora taking out the entire opposing team in one blow at the end. And Team SSSN… They… Well, their fight was… interesting.

"I still can't believe Neptune is afraid of water." America muttered as he and Canada walked back towards Beacon Academy. "That's like someone named 'Shadow' being afraid of the dark."

"Names can't stop someone from being afraid of something." Canada pointed out.

"Yeah, but it's so  _weird_." America emphasized. "Still, I  _suppose_  they won in the end. Somehow."

"Our friends are doing well." Canada agreed. "Why aren't we in the coliseum congratulating them?"

"Because Ruby and Weiss ran off and I want to know where they went." America said, looking around.

Canada sighed. "You're being nosy."

"Am not!" his brother protested. "I'm being  _curious_."

"I don't think there's much of a difference." Canada said dryly. He heard something in the distance and turned his head, frowning. Was that… clashing metal? "Is that a  _fight_?"

"Let's check it out!" America said.

He ran off before Canada could stop him. The violet-eyed nation hurried after his brother, joining the crowd of spectators around the duel happening on Beacon's grounds. The two were able to push their way to the front, and Canada could only gape at the black-haired man and white-haired woman clashed.

"Oh, jeez…" America whispered.

Canada did not have time to question him about his sudden mood change before the combatants clashed again, dropping to a lower level before returning faster than the nation could believe. The Huntsman and Huntress— for who else could fight with such physics-defying stunts— moved so  _quickly_. It was amazing, and slightly unnerving.

_Is this how strong all fully-trained Huntsmen are…?_

A familiar glyph appeared behind the woman. The man smirked and pressed something on his sword. Canada could just hear the grinding of gears shifting. Before the weapon could transform, the man suddenly stopped and sheathed his sword. He stood casually and twitched his finger in a universal 'come at me' gesture. The woman's eyes narrowed and she blasted towards the man with a roar of rage.

"Schnee!"

The woman's sword froze an inch from the man's neck. The man Canada had spotted in a hologram presentation a few days ago— Ironwood— stood behind her. His stomach twisted as it always did whenever he saw the General, but he tried not to let his wariness of anyone from Atlas get the better of him.

Sure, his paranoia had some ground to stand on if his nightmares were accurate but it wasn't like the General was a part of all that. What did worry Canada, however, was Penny's presence behind Ironwood. The girl saw him and waved happily, and the nation had to force himself to return it.

 _Why is she with_ _**him** _ _? Oh, right. He's the Headmaster of Atlas Academy. That's why. That has to be the reason…_

"Why are you here?" the General was demanding of the Huntsman.

"I could be asking you the same question." The man said with a smirk.

There was a beat of intense, uncomfortable silence. Canada could not help but feel like he had missed something. It was almost like the spectators were waiting for Ironwood to respond?

_But why?_

"Now, now, everyone." Canada relaxed as Ozpin and Goodwitch appeared on the scene. "There is a sanctioned fight happening just around the corner at the colosseum that I can assure you has better seats. And popcorn."

When Ozpin's gentle suggestion went ignored, Glynda stepped forward. "Break it everyone! We will take care of this mess."

People slowly wandered off while Ironwood and his robots— and 'Schnee' and Penny— followed the General away. Canada and America spotted Ruby at last as she launched herself at the man, clinging to his arm.

"Uncle Qrow! Did you miss me? Did you miss me?" she asked happily.

 _So that's her uncle,_  Canada thought.  _I thought he would be more… professional._

He may have just been in a fight and looked a bit rough around the edges, but the smile he gave her and the way he jokingly said "Nope." made Canada like the guy. Red eyes flicked from him to America and widened briefly before he smirked.

"Hey there. So you're the twins my nieces have been telling me about."

"You've been talking about us?" Canada asked, bemused.

Ruby turned red. "W-Well. A little?"

"More than a little." Qrow said with a sly grin. "She told me about your—" He cut himself off, chuckling as Ruby kicked at his leg.

"Don't tell them." The girl hissed.

America laughed out loud. Canada shook his head. Knowing Ruby, it was probably something silly. Like the schematics of their weapons or something. Nothing serious.

"Qrow!" The man looked at Ozpin and Ruby slid from his arm, falling to the ground with a thud. The Headmaster frowned at the Huntsman. "A word, please."

Qrow leaned close to Ruby. "I think I'm in trouble." He stage-whispered.

Ruby shrugged. "You did kinda tear up our courtyard."

The Huntsman smiled. "Yeah, I did. Catch you later, kids." He gave her a fist bump, nodded to the twins, and walked off.

America immediately poked Ruby in the arm. "Sooooo… What did you tell your uncle about us?"

"Nothing!" she yelped. "Nothing at all." Her silver eyes settled on Weiss and she grabbed her partner's arm. "Oh, look at the time! Weiss needs to do her Schnee beauty routine right now so we gotta go. Let's go Weiss!"

The Heiress barely had time to open her mouth before she was dragged away by her partner. America watched them go, failing to suppress his giggles. "She's adorable. Like a little puppy."

"I wonder what she said to Qrow?" Canada mused.

An odd expression crossed America's face before it was erased by his usual smile. "I bet it wasn't anything important. It's not like she asked him to look for Arthur or something."

The violet-eyed nation gained a slightly saddened smile at the thought. "Even if she did, she would never find him."

XXXXXXX

Qrow, Ozpin, Ironwood, and Glynda waited until Winter Schnee had exited the office before looking to the red-eyed Huntsman that was the reason for their assembly. Qrow shamelessly took a swig from his flask before meeting their expectant gazes and raising an eyebrow.

"What?"

"You're the one who asked us to come here, Qrow." Glynda said icily. "Your little stunt in the courtyard was unnecessary to gather us together."

"But it was fun." Qrow said with a grin. "Besides, Schnee needed to be taken down a few pegs."

Ozpin sighed, already feeling a headache coming.

Ironwood scowled. "We'll discuss your conduct around my men later. Now answer the question: Why are we here?"

Qrow's grin turned a little colder. "To  _talk_ , Jimmy. See, I've discovered a few things recently that made me think one of us isn't being all that  _truthful_ and I'd like some answers. Since you're so impatient, I might as well ask the most important one." He stalked forward until he was nose to nose with the General. "Who is Arthur Kirkland?"

The General's face revealed nothing.

"'Arthur'?" Ozpin questioned, pondering where he had heard that name before. Memory clicked and his eyes brightened with recognition. "Are you speaking of Alfred and Matthew's brother?"

"Yep." Qrow said. "See, my nieces wanted me to find him for their friends. Said they were separated and wanted to get the whole family back together. The thing is, my nieces believe that they were tragically torn apart in Westwind. We all know that isn't the case. So, Jimmy… where is Alfred and Matthew's older brother?"

Ozpin and Glynda shared a glance, and he saw his own shock and suspicion reflected in her green eyes.

Ironwood frowned. "Arthur Kirkland doesn't exi—"

"Don't lie." Qrow interrupted sharply. "If he didn't exist you would have said that as soon as I mentioned the name. Instead you acted all shifty. So  _where is he_ , Jimmy? What did your soldiers do to him when they took his brothers? Did they  _murder_  him so there were no witnesses to the kids' kidnapping?"

Ironwood slammed his hands on the table, eyes dark with rage. "How  _dare_  you accuse my soldiers of killing someone!"

"Like they haven't before?" Qrow snarled. "I looked at the evidence from Westwind, James. I  _know_  that Grimm didn't do all that damage. Your precious robot army  _killed people of Vale_  you  _bastard!_ "

Glynda gasped. Ozpin's hand tightened around his cane.

A muscle twitched in Ironwood's jaw. "I did not order my men to attack the village."

Qrow threw his arms out angrily. "Well  _somebody_  did. Who was it? Your Council? Jacques Schnee? Doctor Polendina?" His eyes glinted with pure rage. "Or maybe it was your nati—"

"Qrow." Ozpin said sharply, silencing the man. He locked eyes with Ironwood, searching for the truth in his dark irises. When he spoke his tone was soft, almost serene. "James… are his accusations true?"

The General did not reply.

The Headmaster of Beacon's hand trembled. "I thought that we trusted each other. I thought there was nothing else you were hiding after we discovered what you did to Vale. Was I wrong, old friend?" Unable to withhold the sting of betrayal any longer, Ozpin slammed his hands onto his desk and rose to his feet with a shout. " _What else haven't you told us, General?!_ "

There was a flash of green light that was so bright it blinded them all. When it cleared, they could only stare in shock. Where once was nothing but air now stood seven people. Only one caught Ozpin's attention, not only because of his position at the front of the group, but the not-so-insignificant fact that he was  _glowing_.

Green light much like Aura rippled over his frame and weapon, a staff that he held pointing directly at the Headmaster's face. Except he could sense the energy was not Aura at all.

It was  _magic_.

Ozpin slowly lifted his gaze from the blazing staff in front of his nose and met furious green eyes.

"Where are they?" the newcomer snarled, accented voice low and shaking with rage. " _WHERE ARE MY BROTHERS?!_ "

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, I did skip writing the ABRN, BRNZ, and NDGO fights and most of the Qrow vs Winter fight (aka a majority of Chapters one, two, and three of Volume 3). Sorry for skipping forward so much but if something from canon RWBY remains (mostly) unchanged by America and Canada's presences, I will most likely not write about it. If I did, it would just be me describing scenes from the show from their POV and that would get boring fast. Plus I want to keep the story moving along.


	14. National Pride

For a moment frozen in time, no one moved. The newcomers and Huntsmen stared at one another, one side silently shocked while the other was quietly furious. Then Ironwood twitched, reaching for his gun, only for a hand to grab his arm.

" _Kolkolkol_. I would not be doing that." The tallest of the newcomers warned.

Before Glynda or Qrow could attempt to assist the General, they found a gun and a katana against their flesh respectively.

"Please do not try anything." A shorter black-haired man said to the Huntsman quietly.

The blond-haired man menacing Glynda grimaced in distaste as he kept his gun leveled at her temple but said nothing. The entire exchange took lees and a few seconds and the green-eyed man maintained his power and glare the entire time. On second glance, both his fury and the glow surrounding him seemed to be growing stronger.

"Answer me!" he snarled at Ozpin. " _Where are my brothers?!_ "

The Headmaster remained calm despite his and his allies' circumstances. "Are you Arthur Kirkland?" he asked carefully.

Green eyes flashed dangerously. "Yes. If you know that name…"

More energy gathered at the tip of his staff, casting dark shadows across his cold features. The three Huntsmen and one Huntress tensed. Their Auras should protect them from the initial attacks but things tended to get unpredictable with unknowns. That did not mean Ozpin would sit back and allow himself and his circle to be overwhelmed, however. If Kirkland wanted a fight—

A hand landed on the enraged man's arm, making him twitch. Calm blue eyes moved from person to person and the man with the longer, chin-length blond hair spoke. "I think we all need to calm down. Let us all take a step back and take a breath,  _oui_?"

The shorter black-haired and stern blond-haired man slowly lowered their weapons. The tall man holding Ironwood did not let go of his hostage.

The calm man frowned. "Ivan, please release him."

" _Nyet_." The tall man— Ivan— said with a creepy smile. "It may be good to have hostage,  _da_?"

Kirkland also did not move, keeping his staff leveled at Ozpin. Before the calmer blond man could try to plead with him again, he snarled "I am not lowering my guard. You know what they did, Frog!"

"Seeing how surprised they were by our appearance and how there are currently no sirens going off, I believe that they are not the ones who captured our comrades." The other said. "This may be a misunderstanding. Let me ask the proper questions and clear this up."

The man looked at Ozpin and smiled a pretty grin that held just the slightest hint of a threat. "Where are Matthew Williams and Alfred F. Jones?"

"They are here and safe at my school." Ozpin said honestly.

"School?" the stern blond-haired man said softly, latching onto the benign word.

Three of the five newcomers relaxed. But weren't there originally seven? Oz kept the mismatched numbers in mind as he continued. "Perhaps you would like to sit down and talk. I believe we are both missing some information."

Kirkland did not sit but he did lower his weapon slightly. "My brothers are safe?"

His tone was guarded, angry, and Ozpin knew if he gave the wrong answer he'd see exactly what that staff was capable of. "Yes. They are currently enrolled in my school for Huntsmen."

Green eyes revealed nothing. No joy, no suspicion, no recognition, no sorrow. Instead they were carefully blank. "My brothers were captured by soldiers. How did they come to be at your… 'school'?"

Mindful to exclude anything to do with Vale, Ozpin introduced himself and his colleagues and gave a short summary of everything that had transpired after the breach. The other four newcomers hung around the office, stances taut and ready to fight as they warily watched the Huntsmen. When Ozpin finished, Kirkland nodded slowly.

"I think I understand now. I can also tell your hiding something from me." He looked straight at Ironwood and his lip curled with distaste. "We've seen your type of uniform before. You're with the ones who kidnapped my brothers."

It was not a question. The General did not bother to deny it. "Yes. I was involved in your brothers' disappearance."

The staff was instantly pointed at Ironwood.

"Is that so? Then you know the truth." Kirkland hissed. His gaze flicked to Ozpin. "And based on your descriptions of how you met my brothers…" His eyes glinted with calculating enmity. "Well Headmaster, let me be the first to inform you that your ' _colleague_ ' did not tell you everything. But first, introductions." His green gaze trapped Ozpin's brown one. "I am Arthur Kirkland, the representative of the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland, also known as England."

Glynda inhaled sharply.

Qrow let loose a low oath.

Ironwood's fist clenched audibly.

Ozpin's heart sank.  _It can't be…_

The 'man' before him pointed to each of his comrades. "This is Francis Bonnefoy— the French Republic or France, Ivan Braginsky— the Russian Federation or Russia, Ludwig Beilschmidt— the Federal Republic of Germany, and Honda Kiku— the State of Japan. My brothers are Alfred F. Jones— the United States of America, and Matthew Williams— also known as Canada." England smiled viciously. "Do you understand what I am saying, Headmaster?"

Ozpin could not find his voice. Nations. These 'men' were nations. And so were  _Alfred and Matthew_.

Qrow broke free of his shock first, whirling to Ironwood. "What the  _hell_  did you do?"

"He captured two nations from another world." Kirkland spat, sounding cold and oddly triumphant. "Two nations, some would argue, which are the most important to our world. America is one of the most influential countries on Earth and Canada is his closest ally. Without them, our world would fall into disarray, leading to war, poverty, economic crises, chaos, and anarchy." He leaned forward, teeth bared. "And your lot  _kidnapped them_."

"That's enough, Angleterre." France said sternly. "We are not here to antagonize the locals, merely retrieve our missing friends.

England's ire did not subside. "Don't stop me, Frog." He snapped.

France ignored him, looking to Ozpin. "I apologize for Angleterre's temper but he has a point. On our world, capturing a nation like you did is a death sentence." He smiled benignly. "Do you understand why we are… upset?"

The tension in the room could be cut with a knife.

"Do not blame them." Ironwood said suddenly. "It was my people that are responsible for America and Canada's disappearance, and my people alone. They did not know that Jones and Williams were nations until you told them."

"I noticed." England said icily. "I don't care. Why did you take my brothers?"

Mindful of the glowing staff still in his face, Ironwood took a breath. "Years ago, scientists of Atlas were working on a series of tests that was meant to open portals between dimensions. They theorized that the Grimm came from another world, and were trying to figure out how to get there so we could eliminate them at their source. However, instead of finding the Grimm, we found your world: Earth."

He shifted his weight slightly, stiffening as England followed the movement threateningly. "At first, we had no reason to go there. We just observed and collected data about the differences between our worlds and nations. Nothing more."

Harmless scientific interest. How often did such intentions lead to suffering and tragedy?

"However, last year one of our countries— Vale— was injured. Unlike what is normal for Remnant nations, she did not die and reincarnate. Instead she fell into a coma like your kind does on Earth. We were desperate for answers as to why and…we hoped that the twins would provide them."

Ozpin watched his colleague dance around the truth. If he were unaware of what had actually happened, the Headmaster would never be able to spot the lies.

"So you decided taking two countries from another world was a good idea?" England asked scathingly.

Ironwood looked to the furious country. "We did not harm them or experiment on them."

The lies fell so naturally from his tongue. It made Ozpin feel… unsettled.  _What else are you hiding, James?_

Green eyes glinted. "You'd better not have. But it matters little. I do not care about your reasons nor do I care for your world. A fitting notion since you all do not care for ours."

Ozpin winced.

Ironwood remained stoic.

England sneered. "Lead us to America and Canada and we will be on our way. We have enough to deal with without seeking retribution so I will gladly never be involved in this place again."

Ozpin kept his alarm off his face. If the countries left with the twins, part of Vale's Aura would go with them and the rest would soon go to the enemy. All of their planning would be for naught. Before he could think of a subtle argument, Qrow chuckled.

"Good luck getting Alfred to leave. I've seen his type before. He's the hero that has to save everyone. I don't know what your counter-spying picked up but here we have a bit of a monster problem. There's a reason you found Alfred here at a school to fight those monsters and not working at a Dust shop."

"That does sound like America-kun…" Japan murmured.

England scowled. "That is irrelevant. He has an obligation to—"

"You know how difficult it can be to convince Amérique to not be a hero, Angleterre." France interrupted. "I think we should be prepared for it to take time to make him return with us. Besides, we have that time. We counted on being gone for at least a few months before we left."

England's low growl seemed to imply he knew his fellow nation was right. Ozpin breathed a sigh of relief. Crisis averted, for the moment at least.

"Currently a Festival is being held in Vale. You can stay in Beacon for the duration of your stay, if you wish." He offered.

If the countries saw through his attempt to keep an eye on them, none mentioned it.

"Fine." Kirkland grunted. "We'll stay. But now I regret bringing  _those two_."

Glynda's brow furrowed. "Who?"

" _Kesesesese_."

Everyone looked up in the direction of the strange laugh. Settled on a few gears above Ozpin's desk was a white-haired man with what appeared to be a bayonet-fitted sniper rifle. He put the gun away and dropped from the rafters, landing in a crouch and grinning.

"The awesome one before you is Gilbert Beilschmidt, Prussia. Normally skulking around is beneath the awesome me, but I  _am_  the best marksman among us." He puffed out his chest.

"More like we didn't want you in the way and ruining potential negotiations…" England muttered under his breath.

Ozpin could already feel a headache coming. He had met many characters during his life, and he could already tell this one was going to…  _outshine_  them all.

France seemed oblivious Prussia's dramatic entrance. Instead he looked around the office curiously. "Where is Italy? I swore he came with us."

A low 'Ve~!' sounded from beneath Ozpin's desk. He slowly leaned over and nearly got smacked in the face by a white flag. The brown-haired man under his desk stopped frantically waving the flag and gave a nervous squeak.

"Hello! I'm North Italy, Feliciano Vargas. Please don't shoot me. Would you like pasta?"

Ozpin slowly processed the rapid sentences and wordlessly shook his head.

Qrow burst out laughing. "Well, it looks like things are about to get interesting."

XXXXXXX

Ruby stared at the console with a horrified expression, heart trapped in the clutches of true despair. Beside her, Yang had a similar look, misery and shock warring for dominance on her grief-stricken face. The red-cloaked girl darted over to the silent video game console, hands flailing uselessly over it, hoping that if she waved enough the unlit light would turn green.

"It can't be broken!" she mumbled, distressed. "We always play it when Uncle Qrow gets back from a mission. It's tradition!"

"Have you tried turning it on and off again?" Blake asked tiredly.

What was supposed to be a simple, relaxing time where she could read a book while her two teammates religiously prepared for a video game tournament with their uncle had turned into a day of great sorrow as far as the sisters were concerned. Their distress was understandable— that console was not cheap— but Blake felt her sympathy being eroded away by the interruption of her reading time. She wished Weiss was here to talk some sense into the distraught girls but she was off with her own sister. Then again, Weiss's snarky comments when it came to Qrow might not help the situation.

"Of course I tried turning it on and off again." Yang hissed. "That's the first thing you do! And I unplugged it and plugged it back in and checked all the wires!  _It won't turn on!_ "

Her eyes flashed dangerously. Ruby quickly unplugged the console and held it close to her chest to protect it from a gruesome death.

"What are we going to do? It'll take too long for the shop to fix it."

"Not to mention I don't want to pay a hundred Lien only to find out it was 'broken' because of dust." Yang groused.

Blake sighed and mournfully set her book down. "I don't know what to tell you. Maybe someone around here can help?"

Ruby's face brightened like the sun breaking through the clouds. "Of course! Alfred can help! Didn't he say he likes tinkering with this kind of thing?"

"I don't think weapons are the same as a video game console." Blake cautioned.

"He doesn't just make weapons. He told me he built a computer from scratch before." Ruby chirped. "Let's hurry! We need to get it fixed before Uncle Qrow arrives."

She got off the floor and hurried out the door, leaving Yang and a reluctant Blake to follow. The Faunus would prefer staying with her book but someone needed to make sure the sisters did not go overboard.

_Where's Weiss when you need her?_

Yang knocked loudly on the twins' door, making the frame shake. Luckily for the poor wood, Alfred answered quickly. He looked between the three girls, eyebrows creeping upward.

"What's the emergency?"

"There isn't—" Blake began.

She was ruthlessly cut off by Yang, who grabbed the console from Ruby and shoved it in Alfred's face. "It's broken! Can you fix it?"

The blue-eyed twin brightened and he happily took the console, immediately shoving things off of their table and setting it on the cleared wood. Without a word, he began taking the console apart. Matthew wandered over, glancing at his twin and his project, and sighed.

"So much for doing anything else today…" He quirked an eyebrow at the girls. "You know he won't stop until it's fixed, right?"

"That's the point. We need it to work as soon as possible." Yang said shamelessly.

Ruby nodded in agreement.

"Sorry about ruining any of your plans." Blake apologized for the sisters.

Matthew waved away her remorse with a smile. "It's fine. We were just going to go back to the fairgrounds for some food."

"If Sky-Eyes manages to fix that, I'll bring him whatever food he wants. I'll get him a  _hundred_  hamburgers." Yang promised.

Alfred did not appear to hear her, remaining fully engrossed in his task.

Matthew chuckled. "Thank you. If I may ask, why do you need it repaired so badly?"

"Our Uncle Qrow is here and we always play video games with him." Ruby explained, bouncing on her heels. "But when we tried to turn on the console, it wouldn't start!"

"It's probably just a loose wire." Blake said. She pretended not to notice the sisters' offended glares.

"Even if it isn't, Al should be able to repair it." Matthew assured them. "He may not seem like it, but he's quite tech savvy. He likes taking things apart, putting them together, and creating things."

"That's cool." Ruby admitted. "I can just forge weapons."

Matthew smiled kindly. "An amazing skill, I assure you." He hesitated, took a breath, and spoke. "While you're waiting, would you like to play World of Remnant?"

That immediately caught Yang's attention. She stopped hovering by the seemingly-oblivious Alfred and grinned evilly at Matthew.

"Yes! It's time for you to  _fall_ , Emperor Curly!"

Matthew maintained his polite smile but said nothing. Sadly, the three— well, the two sisters— decided Blake needed to play as well, and she was forced away from her books for even longer. The Faunus eyed her cards mournfully, unable to focus on the game when she was in the middle of a chapter. The heroine— Coquelicot— was just about to possibly sacrifice herself to save the world, but it was hinted that someone else would die in her stead…

"Done!" Alfred said.

Ruby dropped her cards, dashing over to the twin, and watched as the console's logo appeared on the screen. She squealed and hugged him, jumping happily.

"Thank you thank you  _thank you!_ "

Alfred laughed and ruffled the short girl's hair. "No problem. I just had to adjust a few of the wires and replace the Dust crystal. The old one was misaligned and cracked."

"That was some quick work, Sky-Eyes." Yang complimented. "You really are a hero."

The twin's smile grew softer. "Thanks. I'm just good with tech." He glanced at their board game, eyes flicking over the many pieces. "So do you want to continue to play that or—?"

There was a knock on the door.

"I've got it." Alfred said before Matthew could rise.

He got up and walked to the door, opening it with a smile. "How can I…?"

He froze, mouth falling open. Concerned, the three members of Team RWBY and Matthew got up, leaning to see who was there. Standing outside the door was a young man. The first thing Blake noticed was his big eyebrows. The second was his bright green eyes. Recognition clicked and the Faunus heard Ruby gasp softly.

Matthew found his voice first. "A-Arthur…?"

Alfred did not speak. He launched himself at the man— confirmed to be his missing brother, Arthur— and trapped him in a hug. Matthew soon followed suit and the twins crushed their older brother between them.

They were speaking too lowly for even Blake to hear, and she resisted the urge to cover her ears and prevent herself from accidentally eavesdropping. Alfred's shoulders were not the only ones that were shaking. In fact, those green eyes that had drawn Blake's attention were rimmed with tears. Arthur slowly lifted his arms, encasing his younger brothers.

"We thought you were dead…" was the first thing Blake heard him say.

Blake looked away, feeling uncomfortable for listening in on the obviously private family reunion. She noticed Ruby watching as well with tears in her eyes.

A low whistle caught her attention and she noticed a black-haired, red-eyed man beckoning to them with a jerk of his head. Ruby picked up the repaired video game console. The sisters immediately and silently inched past the three brothers, with Yang dragging Blake along by her arm. More strangers were in the hallway, but their eyes were on the brothers.

"You can introduce yourselves later." The black-haired man murmured. "For now, let's give them some time, yeah?"

"Okay, Uncle Qrow." Ruby whispered.

Hiding her surprise, Blake followed the family members back to their dorms. She felt a little awkward for accompanying them, but she did not have anywhere else to go. Qrow did not seem to mind. Once they were back in their room, the Huntsman smiled at her.

"You must be Blake. I've heard a lot about you."

Blake shook the offered hand. "Same. It's nice to meet you, sir."

Qrow grimaced. "Don't call me 'sir'. Makes me feel old…"

"But you  _are_  old." Yang said innocently.

Her uncle threw a pillow at her face. Before his older niece could retaliate and start a war, Ruby launched herself at him, hugging him tightly.

"I can't believe you found him. You're the best, Uncle Qrow!"

The man chuckled. "I know. Well, it was more like he found me…"

Blake's eyes narrowed, her curiosity peaked.

Ruby did not seem to care for the story. "I'm so happy they're back together. I  _told_  Dad this would have a happy ending!"

"Who were those other people with Arthur?" Yang asked.

"Old friends of his." Qrow supplied easily. "They banded together to find the twins. I don't know the whole tale but I'm sure they'll answer if you asked."

"We will." Yang said. "For now, tournament time! I'm so going to beat you!"

Qrow's grin gained a challenging edge. "Sure, kid."

Blake watched them bicker over who would play first. She silently got up and retrieved her book, heading for the door, only to halt when Yang called out to her.

"Where are you going? You can play too if you want."

The Faunus shifted, bow twitching. "I… don't want to intrude on your family tradition…"

Qrow scoffed. "You're not intruding." An odd— almost wistful— expression crossed his face. "Besides, teams practically  _are_  family."

Blake looked from his casual demeanor, to Ruby's hopeful eyes, before meeting Yang's expectant expression. The blond-haired girl grinned and patted the empty space next to her.

Blake smiled and sat beside Yang. "Okay."

XXXXXXX

It took America a long time to release England. When he finally let go, he was surprised that the grumpy nation did not shove him off before then. Canada clung to England just a little longer and only released him when someone cleared his throat.

France smiled at his former colony. "What? No hug for big brother Francis?"

"Sorry." Canada laughed and hugged the blond-haired man tightly.

America finally noticed the other nations in the hall and he could not stop the wide smile from spreading across his face. "How about you all come in?" he offered.

The nations entered the twins' dorm room, settling around the forgotten World of Remnant game.

Japan eyed the pieces curiously. "What is this game?"

"It's kind of like Risk." America said after a moment. "Mattie will teach you how to play later if you want."

"There won't  _be_  a later." England said instantly. "We're here to take you home."

Well, that was quick. The nation had barely said hello and he was already ready to leave. Then again, the newcomers did not know about America's not-so-little problem named 'Vale' to deal with. He shoved the issue away from his conscious mind and grinned.

"Wow,  _Arthur_." He scratched his ear, mindful of potential eavesdroppers or cameras around the school. Hopefully England and the others would remember themselves. "I didn't know you hated Vale so much. You just got here…" His eyes roamed over the other nations. "…With a lot of people I didn't expect."

"Of course I had to come rescue my little Matthieu from the evil  _monstres_." France said, sounding offended.

"You are my best friend, Alfred-kun." Japan said simply as an explanation for his presence, making America's chest warm.

"We brought Ger— Ludwig in case we needed some muscle. Feliciano and Gilbert happened to be there when we arrived." England explained reluctantly.

Canada glanced at Russia, who sat casually with an unnerving smile. "I'm guessing that was the same reason for you to come…?" he asked politely, if a bit uncomfortably.

"I am not here for you. I just wanted to discipline the naughty children." Russia said with a creepy smirk.

"That's unnecessary." America said quickly.

"I disagree." The colder nation said. "You were captured and hurt by these… _изверг_." America vaguely recognized the Russian word as that for 'monsters'. It seemed like all the nations were in agreement for what the Atlesian forces who captured them were. Russia's lip curled. "I do not like that."

 _You don't like it because you care about me, or because you don't like seeing your rival be beaten by someone else?_ America wondered. "Chill, dude. We weren't hurt or anything. The… monsters—" He dare not say 'Atlesians' or 'scientists'. Who knew who might be listening? "—may have captured us but they didn't do anything." What lies. He hoped no one could tell…

"You remember what happened then?" Canada asked. "My memory of…  _that_  is still foggy."

 _Oh shit, I forgot Mattie didn't remember!_ "Bits and pieces." America admitted with a disarming chuckle. "Most of it is after we got out of there."

Canada's voice grew hushed. "So you remember what the 'monsters' did to Westwind?"

America twitched. "Not really. Just… flashes of the attack."

"Attack?" England asked sharply.

His brother's violet eyes darkened. "The  _monsters_  massacred a village trying to get to us."

Okay, so Canada remembered better than the then-feverish America did.  _Double shit. Is that what his nightmares were about?_  "I didn't remember that…" he said weakly.

"That's fine. I'm… glad you don't." Canada said, looking away. He clenched his fists. "Regardless, I think we should leave as soon as possi—"

"No! I need to stay." America blurted. The eight nations looked at him and his heart leapt into his throat. "I— u-uh…"

Green eyes narrowed. "Damn it, Am— Alfred! Now is not the time to be the hero!"

America clung to the excuse like a lifeline. "Yeah, it is. In case you didn't notice, I'm in a school for Huntsmen learning to fight Grimm. I can help these people!"

"You owe these people  _nothing_." England snarled.

"That has nothing to do with being a hero—" America began, only to be interrupted by the Brit.

"All these people have done is cause you grief and suffering. You don't owe a  _damn_  thing to them. If anything,  _they_ are in debt to  _you_  for what they did."

Shock melted away and anger ignited in America's chest. He felt like he was back in his colony days, arguing with England about wanting independence. "You don't understand. I just want to  _save_  people."

" _No!_  I am  _not_  going to sit around and watch you  _die_   _for this blasted world!_ " England bellowed. "We are going  _home_."

He grabbed America's hand but the younger nation tore it from England's grasp. For a moment, he forgot that his brother had no idea about the reason for his stubbornness, giving in to the stressful realization that he  _had_  to stay, because he was the only one who could potentially thwart a real monster. He couldn't abandon them. The people of Remnant  _needed_  him to be the hero.

" _THEN GO HOME WITHOUT ME!_ " he shouted.

England gaped at him, open-mouthed. America glared back at him, breathing heavily. He flinched when a hand landed on his arm, and met Canada's worried violet eyes.

Prussia laughed before the twin could say anything. "Even after all these years you two still fight like family. How amusing,  _kesesesese_."

America glowered at the albino nation and shoved Canada's hand off him, stalking towards the door.

"I'm going for a walk." He spat, and slammed it shut behind him, making the wall shudder.

He stomped down the hallway like an angry storm cloud, sending any students unlucky enough to flee in terror. Even the lights seemed to flicker in response to his anger, and he briefly wondered if Vale's control of lightning might be the cause…

_Stupid Vale._

_Stupid Ozpin._

_Stupid England._

"Alfred?"

America turned at the sound of his name, surprised to see Penny peeking out of a nearby doorway. He had half a mind to snap at her to leave him alone, but knew he would feel bad later for being mean to the cheerful girl. Plastering a smile onto his face, he walked over to her.

"Hey, Penny. How are you?"

"I am well." She said. "You are upset."

America let out a bitter laugh. "Is it that obvious?"

"Yes, it is." Penny confirmed. "Would you like to talk about it? Friends are supposed to do that."

The nation considered denying her, but was soon convinced by her earnest expression. "Fine. Let's talk."

XXXXXXX

Brown eyes bore into blue, neither side willing to show defeat and break away their gaze. Ozpin was stoic but with a simmering anger under his skin, while Ironwood was calm and icily detached. Keeping his eyes locked with the General's, the Headmaster of Beacon finally broke the tense silence that had settled ever since Qrow led the nations of Earth away.

"You lied to me, James." Ozpin said softly. "You didn't tell me they were already nations."

"I know." Ironwood confessed. "But would it have changed anything?"

"It would have prepared us for their kin to come looking for them." Glynda said icily. " _And_  for how you potentially jeopardized the safety of another world!"

The General looked away, unable to hold their angry and solemn gazes. "We were desperate and afraid. Vale could die at any moment, and our attempts to put her Aura inside a human or robotic body were colossal failures. We  _needed_  a nation to transfer Vale's soul to and we could not risk any of Remnant's Kingdoms."

"Not even Mantle?" Glynda snapped.

Ozpin understood her reasoning for using the weakening and defunct nation— a harsh plan made less so when compared to what Atlas had done— but the idea was quickly disproven by Ironwood.

"Mantle was too weak. He was dying naturally because his city is slowly falling into ruin. For all we knew, using Mantle would result in both Vale and Mantle dying, and  _both_  their Auras and Semblances going to the enemy."

The Headmaster put a hand to his head, rubbing his forehead with his fingers. "Who approved of this?" he asked quietly.

Ironwood remained stone-faced. "Atlas."

Of course. The nation that represented the cold Kingdom was not the most empathetic soul. Ozpin had met her a few times and they… had not seen eye to eye when it came to methods. Ciel Soleil took her duty to her people— and Remnant as a whole— very seriously, and preferred preemptive strikes and plans that ran on the end justifying the means. She was not cruel, but she tended to only see the big picture and not care about how 'inconsequential' things were affected by her actions.

"I suppose it cannot be helped or changed." Ozpin felt like he was saying that a lot lately. "The only question is: What do we do now?"

"We need to finish the transfer as soon as possible." Ironwood said immediately. "The nations of Earth will never allow it to happen, so we need to move quickly and—"

"I doubt they will let Alfred— America, out of their sight any time soon." Glynda pointed out. "And if he were to disappear, even for a few hours…"

Ozpin grimaced at the thought. Their… 'truce' with the nations of Earth was shaky at best. He knew that there were only seven of them— plus maybe Canada if he found out the truth and turned against Beacon— but the Headmaster had seen what nations were capable of time and again. They might not have Aura or Semblances, but according to Ironwood they had healing factors and might be essentially unable to be killed.

Not to mention Ozpin  _loathed_  the idea of potentially harming a country's people by hurting their representative. There were too many unknowns and possible mistakes that could snowball into an all-out war between worlds.

"I'm certain Alfred's decision to help us will remain unchanged." The Headmaster of Beacon said. "He will convince the others to remain here as long as possible, and hopefully we will be able to transfer the rest of Vale's Aura into him in that time."

"But what will happen after?" Glynda asked. "If it works as well as we hope, a country from another world will have the Aura of one of ours. And he  _will_  need to return to Earth someday."

"Perhaps… that is for the best." Ozpin murmured thoughtfully. "On Earth, our enemies will be unable to touch him and use him for their goals."

"That will only happen if Al— America remains the dominant personality after the transfer." Ironwood warned. "If Vale takes over, he will not leave Remnant willingly because he will not  _care_  about Earth."

"And then we will have eight furious Earth nations to deal with." Glynda murmured, rubbing at her forehead tiredly.

"Perhaps it is best not to ponder about the possibilities. All we should think about is our current problems, not potential future ones." Ozpin said.

"Then what do we do now?" Glynda asked openly.

Ozpin looked over his glasses at them both, hands folded beneath his chin. "We wait for the opportunity we need to arrive."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From now on, I will be updating this story on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays. My intention is to catch up to the chapters on Fanfiction.net so I can update both at the same time. See you in a couple days.


	15. Friendly Chats

Penny's room was like all of the other dorms at Beacon Academy, equipped with a window, some curtains, a small shelf, a couple chairs… though it only had two beds instead of the usual four. When America asked about it, the girl explained that she was only rooming with her partner instead of her whole team.

"Like I told you before, we don't convene much outside of missions." The orange-haired girl reminded him. "My partner spends some time with me but only because she was ordered to."

"That sounds awful." America said bluntly.

Penny laughed. "Oh, it isn't that bad. Just… lonely." Her green eyes dulled slightly.

"Well, that's why you have me and Mattie and RWBY and JNPR." America said, eager to bring back the happiness to her eyes. "You have lots of friends here."

"I do." Penny said, perking up at the reminder. "But… all of them are at Beacon." Her gaze grew wistful. "I wish I could stay here…" She shook herself. "But enough about me. As a good friend, I'm here to listen to  _your_  problems."

"I can listen to yours in exchange." America offered. "That's how friendship works."

She smiled brightly. "That would be sensational!" Her head tipped quizzically. "So why are you angry?"

America sighed and slid down in his chair, looking up at the ceiling. "…My older brother— Arthur— showed up today. He wants Mattie and me to leave Beacon as soon as possible. He doesn't like us being here." That was putting it lightly.

"Doesn't he care about what you want?" Penny asked.

"Exactly! He's  _always_  been like that. Trying to make my choices for me…" America burst out.  _Except my reason for staying isn't my choice either…_  He bit his lip.  _Stop that. I already made my decision._  "I have a… a  _duty_  to remain at Beacon. I  _want_  to stay at Beacon. For my friends."

He so desperately wished he could tell Penny about Vale. He wished he could tell  _anyone_. But if he told his human friends, he would be telling them about the big, bad, secret-filled world they were not ready for and should not have to face yet. And if he told another nation… they'd flip out to put it delicately.

Penny studied him for a long pause. "I want to stay at Beacon as well, both because of my friends here  _and_  because I can still help people fight the Grimm. That is what I was bui— born for. My duty and my desires are so  _close_  to aligning but… certain things keep them from being compatible."

"You go to Atlas Academy." America murmured.

She averted her gaze. "Yes. That is the issue. I have an obligation to return to Atlas. Do you have an obligation to return with Arthur and your family?"

 _Yes, I have an obligation to return to Earth because half of my people are there. The other half…_ "Yeah. You could say that."

"So your goals are not compatible either." Penny said. "You have duties in both worlds— Beacon and your family— but cannot choose which path to follow."

America reassessed his view of the orange-haired girl. She was a lot wiser than she let on. Penny was still socially awkward and oblivious, but she could apparently be very clear-headed if she wanted to be. "That sums it up."

"I cannot give advice on what you should do," she said eventually. "But I think that you should try to talk to your brother about how you feel. Maybe if he understands he will stop trying to force  _you_  to do what  _he_  thinks is right."

"That makes sense." America admitted. "But I can't right now. If I go back, we'll just yell at each other more instead of talking. That's always what happens when we fight. We both need time to cool off."

"Are you overheating?" Penny asked, concerned.

America laughed. "No. It's another expression. Add it to your databanks."

"Okay." She agreed. Apparently she  _did_  have an understanding of humor. "You can sleep here if you want. I don't need to sleep tonight and my partner will not mind."

"Thanks, but don't you have matches tomorrow?" America asked. "You need your rest."

"Don't worry, Alfred. I'm always combat ready." Penny said firmly.

He nodded. "Got it. Sorry I doubted you."

America looked down at his clothes and shrugged. There was no way in hell he was going back to the room to get pajamas. He would just have to make do with what he was wearing. He set his weapon next to the bed and sat on it, stretching his limbs.

"So you're in the two-vs-two matches, right? Who are you fighting alongside?"

"My partner. We are an exceptional team. I'm 99.99% certain we will be victorious." Penny said.

America chuckled at her bravado. "Cool. You sound pretty confident." He thought about all the other teams left in the tournament, mind settling on a certain untrustworthy group. He hesitated. "Listen… I don't know who you're going to be fighting in the next rounds, but… Be careful around Emerald's team."

Penny's brow furrowed. "You mean Ruby's friend?"

"Yeah." America decided to be blunt in order to get his point across. "She has a hallucination Semblance. Mattie can testify. I'm not sure how personalities and Semblances work off each other but a person who can put visions in someone's brain doesn't exactly sound trustworthy."

Penny frowned thoughtfully. "I see. Have you told Teams RWBY and JNPR?"

"I'm afraid not." America admitted. "Emerald's their friend and Ruby didn't react well when I shared my theory that Emerald tried to pickpocket me when I arrived in Vale…"

"I understand. I will try to keep an eye out." Penny said, nodding shortly.

The pit in his stomach eased and he smiled. "Good. So now it's your turn to share your problems."

She hesitated. "Well, you see—"

Her eyes flicked past America her jaw clamped shut. Before he could comment, he heard the door open. The nation turned and stood, preparing a smile for the newcomer that was likely Penny's partner and his temporary roommate. He needed to make a good first impression—

America's smile froze on his face. He recognized Penny's partner in an instant. It took half of his will not to leap to his feet and back away. The other half was used to keep himself from attacking with everything he had. The newcomer looked equally unhappy to see him, her eyes narrowing and a slight sneer on her face.

"This is the partner I was talking about." Penny introduced happily, unaware of the tension. "Alfred, this is—"

"Don't waste your breath, Penny. We've already met before." Ciel Soleil— also known as Atlas— said. She gave her fellow nation a smile that was more of a threatening smirk. "Nice to see you again, Alfred F. Jones."

XXXXXXX

America did not return to their room that night. After a few hours with no sign of him, England was about ready to send out a search party. Or possibly declare war. Thankfully, Canada managed to quell the nation's rising suspicions by pointing out that America always stayed away after a fight and usually found a place to think.

England snorted at his phrasing. "'Think'? The idiot doesn't have enough brain cells for that."

Canada exhaled slowly and bit his tongue to hold back a snappish reply. Being brusque was just England's way. France knew that as well, but that did not stop him from poking the bear. He turned away from the card game he was playing with Prussia and Japan.

"I should have known you two would argue the moment you spotted each other." He commented. "You and Amérique are so uncouth."

"I'll show you 'uncouth' you bloody Frog!" England snarled, lunging for the smirking nation.

Canada watched them brawl and squabble, feeling a headache forming between his eyes. He rubbed the spot tiredly and noticed Italy looking his way. "Yes?"

The pasta-loving nation twiddled his fingers nervously. "Ve~… Is Alfred okay?"

 _Obviously not. He just stormed off in a huff._  "What do you mean?" Canada asked politely.

"He looked tired." Italy commented. "He had really dark shadows under his eyes. Didn't you notice?"

That caused England to stop bickering with France, his instinctive worry for his former colony warring with his desire to punch the Frog in the nose. "What are you talking about? Is he sick?" he demanded.

Italy yelped as furious green eyes glowered at him, hiding behind Germany. "I don't know!"

"He's not sick." Canada said, saving the poor Italian from the Englishman's interrogation. "He hasn't been sleeping well and is a little stressed, but I think he was worried about getting home. I know I was. It was unsettling, waking up with no memory of how we got here…" A thought struck him. "How long have we been… away?"

"Nearly eight months." Germany informed them. "You did not remember?"

"Everything's blurry before a certain point." Canada admitted. "Honestly I don't remember what happened at all before waking up near a village named Westwind."

That was not strictly true. His nightmares gave him enough to put some pieces together but he did not want to give England— or Russia— an excuse to attack Remnant. Something in the green-eyed nation's face told Canada he knew more than he was letting on. His expression held just a little too much loathing for him to be completely ignorant.

"I knew this place was bad news. We should just grab him and go home." England muttered.

"How  _are_  we getting home?" Canada asked. "And how did you even get here?"

"It wasn't easy." England said. "But between my… talents and Tony's inventions, we managed it."

 _Magic and alien technology. Of course._  "And the way home?"

Before England could answer, France stepped in front of him, reaching down his shirt. "We have—"

The green-eyed nation shoved the Frenchman aside, making him sprawl onto the bed— and poor Japan— in an undignified mess of limbs. The black-haired nation wisely kicked France away before he could do anything, sending him to the floor. Canada withheld a wince on behalf of his brother. England calmly pulled a small necklace from below his collar, showing it to Canada. The pendant was a dark green stone with carvings inside it.

"Combining the knowledge of Tony and myself, we created these." The nation explained. "All we have to do is break the stone and a portal will appear." He nodded at the other nations. "Each of us has one just in case, but a single stone should be all that is needed to get us home."

"They're much less scary than the circle Arthur used to get us here." Italy piped up. "I thought he was sacrificing us to a demon!" He shuddered.

Canada held out his hand and England willingly handed him the stone. He inspected it, spotting lighter green streaks throughout the pendant. He could not say whether they appeared to be glowing due to the light or their supernatural— and potentially alien— nature.

"This is good." He commented, relieved. "Al and I spent so long trying to find a way home but this wor— Kingdom doesn't even have a space program."

"Really?" Prussia asked, butting in to the conversation. "Then who blew up the moon?"

"We don't know what happened to the moon. I don't think anyone does." Canada admitted. He returned the stone to England. "Are you sure having those is a good idea. If someone were to lose one…"

"Don't worry, we put precautions in place." England interrupted. "Each stone will only break if its owner shatters it and the chains will not snap easily." Green eyes darkened. "We are not about to let people from this  _Kingdom_  get to ours."

Canada sighed. "They're not all that bad."  _Except Atlas might be. And Cinder. And Emerald. And maybe Ironwood. And—_

"I'll believe it when I see it." England growled suspiciously. "Still, I suppose if Alfred is going to be an idiot, we'll be staying a while. We shall have to learn about a few of the intricacies unique to this place." His lip curled in distaste.

Canada nodded acceptingly. "I'll inform you of the terminology of Vale so you aren't caught off guard."

XXXXXXX

" _Pathetic."_

_He could barely open his eyes to look for the source of the voice. His eyelids were heavy, his muscles even more so, and his thin frame shivered despite the layers of clothes covering his skin. It was so cold. The cold had never bothered him before, but now it tore its claws through him, giving no quarter as it bit his fingers and toes and made his entire body shake. His body was that of a young man, but he felt absolutely ancient, his every bone creaking._

_After a long effort, he opened his eyes, recoiling as he met amber irises that were colder than the snowstorm. He licked dry lips._

" _Who are you?" he croaked, voice faint and whispery._

_The gleaming irises became a face as she stepped out of the storm and into the run-down building he called shelter. She stood over him, silent and apathetic to his miserable state, and somehow the curl of her lip grew more disgusted._

" _How the mighty have fallen. Are you really one of the great Kingdoms that fought in the War?"_

_Her tone chaffed at the remnants of his ego and he sat up straighter, managing a glare. "So you know who I am, yet you refuse to give me the same courtesy. Who are you and why have you sought me out?"_

" _Just to talk." She said, and he sensed it was the truth. "I'm just surprised. I expected you to be… more."_

_More what? More powerful? More prideful? More healthy? He was too tired to find the energy to feel offended. "Well, sorry to disappoint you. So why are you here?"_

" _I told you. I'm here to talk." She sat next to him on one of the few dry spots on the cold concrete floor. "In case you haven't guessed, I'm searching for your kind. I… I want to meet you."_

_For a moment, she sounded young, almost hopeful. He did not trust it. "Is that so?"_

_She nodded. "You all know so much about this world. I was hoping to learn some things from you. About history and the land. I want to_ _**know** _ _."_

_She was not the first to find him with such ambitions. He could see the difference between her and a genuine student, however. Her face was beautiful and awestruck. Her eyes were manipulative and cold. Did she realize he could see the superior smirk in her gaze? He had seen many such eyes in his life and knew how to spot them. She was years too young to trick him._

" _You don't need to lie. I'm not the one you are interested in." he said, revealing just a bit of his doubt but not their true depths. "Who do you really want to find?"_

_She looked away, acting like a young person who was caught in a tiny fib. He knew it was an act. "Was I that obvious? I'm sorry. Truthfully, I'm looking for Vale."_

_Her tone was earnest. Her smile seemed genuine. He knew better. "Well I'm afraid I'm disappointing you again, young lady." He pretended not to see her twitch at the term that suggested she was beneath him. "I do not know where my sibling is."_

_A bit more frustration entered her treacherous amber eyes but she skillfully kept it off her face. "That's not true. I read that nations can sense where the others are. And even if they avoid their governments, they've always told their kin where they are going. The Kingdoms are at peace so there's no reason to hide it."_

" _Except there is." He said lightly. "There's a reason why so few know of our existence. So many people would want to use our power for their own gain." He let his gaze harden. "People like_ _ **you**_ _._ _ **Do you think I'm stupid, girl?**_ _"_

_The fake enthusiasm fled her amber gaze. "Perhaps I did. I suppose I underestimated you. And here I thought your dying city would make you senile."_

_He laughed, the sound rough and crackly as it ripped its way from his throat. "You don't know as much as you think you do about nations. We may no longer be a Kingdom, but my city still lives and I'm not vanishing any time soon."_

_She smirked. "To call your city 'alive' is to call a cooling corpse 'alive'. More and more of your people flee to Atlas every day, leaving those that remain behind in poverty and filth. You're weak. Useless. I honestly don't know how you exist anymore."_

_He tipped his head, lips lifting in a sneer similar to hers. "Insulting me will gain you nothing, girl. You're not getting what you came here for. I'll never betray my kin. So get out."_

" _No." she said coldly. "You_ _ **will**_ _give me what I want. Tell me what I want to know or four of your people will vanish tonight. Four more tomorrow. And four for every night you refuse to give me Vale's location. You already have so few people left. I don't think you can afford to lose any more."_

_Despite himself, his heart began to beat faster. It was true that he had been losing people since the end of that blasted war, but he had managed to survive even after Mantle became a defunct Kingdom. As long as some people saw the city as a home, he would live. It was not a kind life, nor a bountiful one in the least, but it was a life. He was a nation, and a nation's duty was to his people. A nation had to protect them._

_He knew, even without seeing this woman fight, that he would be unable to protect his people from her. The desire for power and the ruthless need to succeed in her goals were too strong for his failing soul._

" _I doubt your citizens will even notice." She continued thoughtfully. "Mantle is such a horrible place to live. People die of starvation or vanish all the time. I think a single Grimm attack might be enough to wipe them out…"_

_His mouth went dry. Surely she could not control the Grimm. Yet one did not need to control Grimm in order to make them do what they desired. All they had to do was manipulate the people, making them feel negative emotions that would draw the Grimm to them in swarms…_

_He wouldn't survive a Grimm attack. His people would die, and the remainder would panic and flee to Atlas for a chance to survive. His pathetic resolve crumbled._

" _Don't hurt them." He croaked. "I'll tell you where Vale is."_

_She smiled. "I knew we'd come to an agreement."_

_And so he told her, ignoring the ache in his heart and silently apologizing to his sister. Vale was so much stronger than him now. Even though he— currently a she— had died and resurrected comparatively recently, but she was more powerful than he was. Vale had a better chance to survive anything this foolish, dangerous woman did than him._

_Vale would be fine._

_She had to be._

Canada woke with a start. He sat up, breathing heavily, and looked around his quiet room. The other nations had left to sleep in separate dorms, and America's bed was empty, leaving no one to witness his panicked awakening. He thought about the dream, clinging to it even as details slipped from his conscious mind.

Soon it was nearly gone.

All he remembered snow and amber, terror and remorse, and a twisting sensation in his stomach that told him he had done something terrible.

Snow and amber.

Terror and remorse.

Guilt and betrayal.

Who had he betrayed?

_What did I remember?_

_What did I do?_

XXXXXXX

Ironically, America slept soundly that night. He should not have, considering a person who had made his life hell for months was sleeping in the other bed, but he found Atlas's — Ciel's— presence oddly calming. Maybe it was because he knew where his enemy was for once? Or maybe because he had already agreed to finish what she started so he knew she would not harm him.

Regardless of his feelings, he still made sure to wake before she did, slipping out of the room without speaking to her. Penny had already run off somewhere, so America made it his mission to locate the girl.

He barely made it a few steps down the hall before his stomach growled loudly, and he recalled he had not eaten dinner last night. He blamed England. Hoping to kill two birds with one stone, he turned towards the fairgrounds where he might find Penny and would definitely find food. Sadly, fate seemed intent on delaying his breakfast further.

"Hey, Sky-Eyes!"

America turned towards the waving Yang and waved back half-heartedly. She and the rest of Teams RWBY and JNPR ran up to him, all smiles and good cheer despite the early hour. Even Yang and Ren were bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, and the twin had to wonder if they had been replaced by clones.

"Hey yourself, imposter. Your disguise is good but the real Yang would never be awake at this hour." America teased.

The blonde-haired brawler stuck her tongue out at him. "Funny. I've been up and raring to go every day of the Tournament, thank you very much. I don't want to risk sleeping in."

"More like she's too excited and bounces around the room like a chipmunk on coffee." Blake muttered.

Yang pouted at her.

Weiss ignored them. "So where's Matthew? Is he not awake yet? Do you want me to help get him up?" Her eyes glinted.

"That's not necessary." America said with a laugh. "I'm sure Arthur will take care of it."

His smile nearly faded as he spoke England's name. The slight narrowing of Pyrrha's green eyes told him she noticed. Crap.

"Speaking of your other older brother, can we meet him?" Ruby asked hopefully.

America's smile grew slightly more forced. "Of course you can. You know where our room is. He's probably there."

The teens grew silent, with a few exchanging glances.

"You're not going to introduce us?" Pyrrha asked slowly.

America scratched his head and inspected the corner between the ceiling and the wall. There were a couple cobwebs. Someone should clean that.

"Arthur and I had a fight." He told the cobweb tersely.

Yang winced. "Yikes. What about?"

" _Yang_." Ruby admonished in a hiss.

"It's okay. I'm fine with telling you." America said. "Arthur… doesn't approve of Mattie and me being at Beacon."

It was as close to the truth that he could give. It was also more than enough to see the look in a few of their eyes' change from enthusiasm to anger and suspicion. It looked like he might have just turned a few of them against England. Double crap.

"It's not what you think." he added quickly. "He… doesn't want us to die for Remnant. I understand where he's coming from, I just don't agree with it. I want to save people."

"An admirable goal." Ren said calmly.

"Do you and Arthur always fight about things?" Nora questioned. She did not seem to notice the exasperated looks her friends gave her. Or she was pretending not to like how America smiled and pretended it was fine that she asked.

"Yeah. We argue a lot." He said. "But enough about that. Do you happen to know where Penny is?"

"Penny's probably out in the Festival already. She doesn't need to sleep." Ruby said. She twitched. "I mean, of  _course_ she does. Everyone needs to sleep sometime! Pfft. Why wouldn't she, haha…?"

America shot her a befuddled look but dismissed her awkwardness as normal Ruby behavior. "Okay? I was hoping to find her to see if she wanted to get breakfast."

"That's good! Normal people eat food." Ruby said, nodding firmly.

_What the hell?_

"I'll help you look for her." Pyrrha offered.

Weird. America had assumed she and Penny had just met after vacation. Though he supposed Pyrrha was nice enough to want to help even though the girls were not that close.

Regardless, America shook his head. "No, it's fine. I know you want to meet my friends. I'll catch up with you later after I get food."

"I haven't eaten yet either. We can go together." Pyrrha said.

Was… Was she  _insisting_? And did she just step on Jaune's foot when he opened his mouth to speak? Polite-unassertive-never-puts-her-foot-down Pyrrha Nikos was insisting she come along despite America's probably-obvious discomfort? Was the world going to end?

 _Well, she_ _ **might**_ _just be that hungry…_  "Sure."

They split up, with the three members of JNPR and four of RWBY heading towards the twins' room while America and Pyrrha went out to the Fairgrounds. Some of the vendors were already open. Apparently they were not the only early risers seeking breakfast, for a few people milled about between stalls, blindly searching for coffee and sustenance.

Shockingly, the Shopkeeper was not the owner of the little café stand that the two students settled at. As he accepted his eggs, toast, and bacon with a smile, America was glad for the unfamiliarity. If it had been his previous boss, the man would have asked about Mattie. The blue-eyed twin quickly dug into his meal to push away any thoughts about his 'family' but he could feel Pyrrha's green eyes on him the entire time as they ate in silence. Notably, she was enjoying pancakes and sausage, and  _tea_  like England—

_Shut up, brain._

America cleared his plate in record time, with Pyrrha not far behind. The owner took their empty dishes, though he left their mugs.

"Would you like another cup of coffee?" he asked the twin.

"Yes, please." America replied gratefully.

The man smiled as he refilled the mug, glancing at Pyrrha. "Refills are free for tea as well."

She nodded politely. "I would love more. Thank you."

He took her mug to refill it, leaving them in silence.

"So how do you think your chances are in the Tournament today?" America asked.

Pyrrha set her hands gently in her lap. "Nora and I will be fighting in the double rounds. I believe our performances will be satisfactory. But I'm not here to talk about the Tournament." Her tone remained calm and kind as she locked eyes with him. "There's something more than Arthur that's bothering you. You've been troubled since we returned from vacation."

So she  _had_  noticed. Wonderful.

"I can't talk about it. It's uh– personal." He said immediately. "Besides, I already said as much as I could to Penny…"

"But it isn't enough to take away the stress. You're exhausted." She said quietly. "Or is it normal for you to drink six cups of coffee in the morning?"

"I didn't drink that…" he trailed off, mentally counting how many times the owner had refilled his mug.

She put a hand on his arm. "Something is burdening you greatly. I'd love to help you, if I can."

Was he that obvious? Or was she used to hiding things herself? America stirred sugar into his coffee absently, watching the liquid ripple. "I don't know if you'd understand. I  _can't_  tell you everything. You won't…"  _You won't understand what I have to do._

"Try me." Pyrrha said simply.

America ran his hand through his hair, biting his lip. "Okay? I… made a decision that affects more than just me."  _I have to become Vale, but I don't know how that will affect my own country, especially if I lose myself._  "My family doesn't know about it, so they expect me to just return home with them and when they see I don't want to, they think I'm just being stubborn."  _I have a duty to my world, but I want to help this one. They think I'm trying to be the hero but it's so much more than that._ "They think I'm being stupid.  _Arthur_  thinks I'm being stupid. Because that's what they expect from me. They aren't even  _considering_  that maybe I have a reason other than self-interest to want to stay!"

His fist slammed into the countertop, startling him, Pyrrha, and the owner. Luckily his and Pyrrha's mugs were empty enough that hot liquid did not splash everywhere. America shot the man an apologetic smile and put his hands on his legs to hopefully avoid inflicting anymore damage.

"I know a bit about expectations and presumptions from people." Pyrrha said eventually. She took a breath. "I've figured out by now that you don't know who I am."

"Of course I do. You're my badass friend Py-Py." America said.

She smiled. "I'm also a famous prodigy and champion. I won the Mistral Regional Tournament four years in a row and became quite well-known. I gained sponsorships and fame, and soon my old friends drifted away because of it while new people were only drawn to or away from me due to my status. That's why I was so happy you and Matthew did not recognize me."

Pyrrha's gaze dropped to her tea. "When you're supposed to be the best, everything you do is scrutinized. People look up to you but feel they can never interact with someone of your… talent, and expect you to be what they imagine you to be. They do not bother to look beneath and try to get to know the real you. Instead they rely on what they think they know and don't bother to seek the truth." She studied him carefully. "Is that what hurts you? That your brothers haven't noticed something is wrong?"

"I think Mattie has." America said slowly. "But he hasn't tried to talk to me about it. Don't get me wrong, I haven't tried to talk to  _him_  either but he didn't even  _try_. He… probably thinks it's something childish that makes me want to stay, just like the rest of them." His shoulders hunched. "He cares about me, but even Mattie only sees my flaws sometimes."

Because America was the idiot with wild ideas that would never work. America was the fool that always smiled. America only worried about getting his next hamburger. If he wanted to be a hero, it was for glory, not selflessness. He was a heroic wannabe. He wouldn't willingly sacrifice himself for another world. He never thought deeply. He only cared about his image as a hero, not saving people. So obviously his issue with leaving was that he wanted to stay and fight monsters like a superhero from a comic book,  _right_?

England's comments about him playing the hero were proof enough for what the green-eyed nation thought. But Canada… without his memories of the lab and what happened, his brother was likely thinking the same. America and Canada were in two different stages of their changed familial relationship because of the latter nation's partial amnesia. And that hurt.

Pyrrha looked at him thoughtfully. "I think you should talk to your twin. Your… reasons might be personal, but surely you can tell  _him_  at least?"

America considered her advice. Canada had been in the lab with him. He may not remember it, but he went through what America was going to— but the blue-eyed nation's results might be much more catastrophic. If he truly wanted to tell Canada though, it would require his brother getting his full memory back. Could America do that to him? Could he reveal the full truth and make Canada understand the full weight of his decision?

If America didn't… he knew his brother would be furious once he learned what happened. He was so kind, and would want to support his twin even if he disagreed with his decision. He would want to be there for Alfred. Out of everyone, Matthew might be the only one who would listen and understand.

America closed his eyes and sighed. "I'll think about it."

Pyrrha turned back to her cooling tea. "That's all I ask."

XXXXXXX

Matthew answered the door the moment Ruby knocked. His hopeful expression fell as soon as he saw them and Weiss guessed he was hoping they were a certain blue-eyed twin. He hid his disappointment with a smile.

"Hello. I'm guessing that you're here to meet my friends?"

"No, we're here to inspect the quality of the paint on the wall." Blake said dryly.

Matthew chuckled, stepping aside and waving them in. The teens filed into the room and a blond-haired man instantly appeared in front of Yang.

" _Bonjour, mademoiselle._ I am Francis Bonnefoy. Tell me, how did a Sun Goddess such as yourself come to be on this mortal plane?"

_Oh Gods no._

A flirt. Of course one of them was a  _flirt_.

Weiss watched Blake step behind her partner, ready to grab her in case she decided Francis needed a beat down. Thankfully, Yang seemed to find his words funny, snickering as she flicked her hair over her shoulder.

"Compliments will get you nowhere but keep them coming anyway."

He smiled, all white teeth, charm, and grace. "As you wish,  _mon_ —"

The other blond-haired man— based on his eyebrows, he must be Arthur— whacked Francis on top of the head, eye twitching in annoyance. "Stupid Frog! Can't you control yourself for a  _second_?"

"But there are beautiful people everywhere. Who will compliment them if not me?" Francis said, holding his head where Arthur hit him.

Arthur was unsympathetic. "Restrain yourself or I'll do it for you."

His sharp green eyes roamed over the teenagers, and something in his gaze made Weiss distinctly uncomfortable. The look he gave them was almost familiar…

"You must be the friends Matthew spoke of. I am Arthur Kirkland." He introduced himself. "This idiot—" He glared at Francis. "—already introduced himself. These are my… associates…"

He told them the name of each newcomer, getting varying reactions from each. Kiku Honda nodded politely but did not speak, reminding Weiss a bit of Ren. Ludwig Beilschmidt only gave a short greeting in return. Feliciano Vargas enthusiastically waved at them. Ivan Braginsky smiled creepily, and Weiss made a note to stay away from him. And then there was the last man, Gilbert Beilschmidt.

"The awesome me takes great offense in being introduced last." He said loudly. "I also find it lacking." He sauntered up to the teens— honestly, there was no other way to describe the way he walked— and grinned widely. "I am the awesome and amazing Gilbert Beilschmidt, defeater of armies and dreaded across the land!"

"Not anymore you're not." Arthur muttered under his breath.

Memory clicked and Weiss's eyes widened slightly.  _He's the Huntsman who—_

She saw Ruby open her mouth and quickly covered it before the girl could say something tactless. The silver-eyed student struggled in her hold but Weiss refused to let up. She smiled stiffly. "It's nice to meet all of you."

Weiss did her best not to intensely study Gilbert, searching for the injury that had ended his career as a Huntsman. Just because she could not see any prosthetics did not mean they were not there. Then again, not all career-ending injuries were visible…

Arthur raised an eyebrow, gaze flicking between her and Ruby. His expression revealed nothing. He could be amused or annoyed for all she knew and it was making her uncomfortable. With the leader of Team RWBY preoccupied, Jaune took the initiative to share their own names.

"Ve~ It is wonderful to meet you all." Feliciano said, clasping his hands in front of his chest. "I'm so glad the twins made new friends."

"I'm glad too." Weiss thought she heard Matthew mumble.

Her heart warmed, but the fuzzy feeling fled as Arthur scowled at the twin. It was obvious he was holding his tongue, but what opinion was he refraining from sharing? Unless… he disapproved of them? Indignation ignited in Weiss's chest and it only grew hotter when she recalled their earlier conversation with Alfred.

" _Arthur… doesn't approve of Mattie and me being at Beacon."_

Suddenly, she knew who Arthur reminded her of.

Her father.

He didn't want the twins to become Huntsmen. Alfred and him argued all the time. It was implied their argument was about the twins staying at Beacon. Did Arthur intend to  _force_  them to go home like her father wanted her to? The thought enraged the Heiress.

"Alfred and Matthew are excellent students." Weiss said primly. "I'm glad to be friends with them."

Emerald eyes sought her out and narrowed.

Yang gave a dramatic gasp and grabbed Matthew's arm. "Weiss admitted you're friends! Quick, where's the camera?"

"Be quiet, Yang." Weiss said without fire. "I'm merely saying that they deserve to be at Beacon."

Maybe that was a bit too heavy-handed. She felt her teammates' shocked eyes on her, but focused on nothing but the emerald irises that glowered at her.

"I don't think what they do is your concern." Arthur said eventually.

She nodded once, stiffly. "As long as it is their decision, I suppose that's true."

The Heiress and older brother glared at each other, neither willing to avert their gaze and submit. Weiss could practically feel the tension building between them but did not care. Perhaps the 'similarities' to her situation were clouding her judgement, but she was not about to let her friends get torn from their dreams without a fight.

Yang whistled lowly. "Geez, it got chilly in here. Who wins, Ice Queen or Ice King?"

" _Yang_." Ruby hissed lowly.

It was Matthew that broke the stand-off. He stepped between the glowering parties, placing a hand on both their shoulders. Delightfully, Arthur broke eye contact first.

"Sorry to cut this short, but the next rounds are going to start soon." The twin told Weiss. "You should probably get ready."

"I suppose." Weiss said.

Frankly, her upcoming battle alongside Yang was the least of her priorities at the moment. That did not stop the teens from awkwardly saying goodbye and departing. Weiss glanced back at Matthew as the door closed behind her and wished the pit in her stomach would ease. Even if Arthur might be trying to sweep the twins away from Beacon, he was not as bad as her father. The gentle twin would be fine.

Yang turned on Weiss the moment they were down the hall. "What was that, Ice Queen?"

"I don't like him." Weiss growled. There was no question as to who she was referring to.

Ruby gasped. " _Weiss!_ "

"Don't 'Weiss' me." She snapped. "Don't you realize what's going on? He's wants Alfred and Matthew to leave Beacon."

"Where did you get that idea from?" Jaune asked, surprised.

"Our conversation with Alfred and subtle emotional cues from Arthur." Weiss said. "He dislikes that the twins became friends with us— that they made bonds here at Beacon."

"Or maybe he's just grumpy?" Blake offered.

"I doubt that." Weiss stated. "I've… seen his type before."

"You're worried." Yang realized slowly.

"Perhaps." Weiss deflected, lips pressed into a thin line of discontent. "My hypothesis might be incorrect but I can't ignore it."

"Okay." Blake said slowly. "Your dislike has been noted. But there's not much we can do about it now, if there's even an issue."

If it were not Blake who was saying that, Weiss might have bristled. Since it was the comparatively level-headed Faunus, she acknowledged that Blake was probably right. They didn't even know if Arthur truly was trying to make the twins leave Beacon. She could be worrying about nothing.

"True…"

Yang slung her arm across the Heiress' shoulders, making her nose wrinkle. "Don't sweat about it, Ice Queen. You'll melt. We'll just keep an eye out for signs and kick Arthur's butt if we have to. For now, we'd better get moving. Curly is right. Weiss and I have to get ready for the double rounds."


	16. Fallen Sky

Eyes glued to the screen, America watched Yang and Blake help a soot-covered Weiss off the field, shaking his head and chuckling. His friends had done well to defeat their opponents, but said opponents were too…  _outlandish_  for him to take the fight very seriously. A trumpet and roller skates? That was awesomely weird. He approved, truly he did, but now his bat seemed tame by comparison. Maybe he should add a grenade launcher to it. He was sure Nora would help.

The twin currently sat on a bench on the Fairgrounds, watching the Tournament on one of the screens in a stand selling drinks across the way. He had considered going to Amity Colosseum to watch his friends' matches but worried England might be there. Ultimately, he decided that avoiding the nation would be easier on the open grounds than in the crowded stands. Perhaps it was stubborn of him but he did not want to see the Englishman yet. If he did, he might end up punching him in the face.

_Old habits die hard._

America knew it was not England's fault that he was so upset about the demands that they leave Remnant. But that did not stop the pit that opened in his stomach whenever he thought about the circumstances the older nation was unaware of. America was not being a glory-hound that wanted to save 'the poor people of Remnant' from monsters. He was the  _only one_  who could save them from monsters.

America spent the next hour simply watching the many people at the Festival. So many of them were his people, or were going to be. The connection to them was not as strong as his bond with the people on Earth, but if he concentrated, he could  _feel_  their joy like it was his own. These people here were Vale's. They might be his too. They deserved the protection he could offer.

_If only I could…_

"There you are, Al."

America looked up to see his twin brother and Japan standing over him. The black-haired nation had what appeared to be a small stuffed cat in his hands. Even when faced with the amusing image of the stoic nation holding something so adorable, America could not manage his Hollywood grin.

"Hey." He greeted softly.

If they noticed his struggle to appear normal, they did not mention it. Encouraged by his lack of excuses and hasty escaping, the two sat with him, one on each side. Japan perched primly with the stuffed cat on his lap while Canada leaned back, relaxing.

"We've been looking all over for you." Canada continued. "You didn't come back to the room last night."

"Penny offered me a spare bed." America said. He looked at Japan. "Nice to see you, Kiku. Sorry we didn't get to talk last night."

"It is fine. I am just relieved you are okay." The black-haired nation said.

"Hey, it'll take more than monsters to get me." America boasted with his usual laugh. He could see neither of them bought it. Okay then. "So have you already been hitting the games? They're not as prone to scamming you as the ones back home."

"I noticed." Japan said lightly. "I have easily won a few of them."

"And you didn't get me anything? I'm hurt." America teased.

Japan solemnly set the little stuffed cat in his hands. "You can have this one."

America inspected the tiny black kitten before looking back at his friend. "I was joking, dude. You don't have to give me this."

"I wanted to." Japan said simply.

America subconsciously held the stuffed animal close to him, eyes sliding to his brother. "What about you, Mattie? Did you win a stuffed bear to replace Kumajirou?"

"Nothing can replace Kuma. And no, I didn't." Canada replied.

"Kiku or I can win you something if you suck at the games." America immediately offered.

"Thanks." His brother said dryly. His violet eyes softened. "Arthur is still in his room."

And there it was. America knew the conversation was going to turn to England eventually but he had hoped to delay it a little longer. He kept his smile firmly in place. "Oh really? Is he not enjoying the festivities?"

"No, he isn't." Canada said bluntly, voice gaining a hard edge. "I think you know why."

America bristled at his tone. He knew how Canada felt for his 'treatment' of England, both in the past and the present. The three hour-long rant was enough of an indication, but America knew if Canada decided to accuse him of being the ungrateful jerk again the end result would not be the blue-eyed twin crying. He might just transfer his desire to punch England in the face to his brother.

_Or maybe I'll get pissed enough to blast him away with wind…_

"Don't pin this on me." He said quietly, forcefully. "You don't  _understand_ —"

"I think I do." Canada interrupted, tone taut with disapproval.

America breathed sharply through his nose. "No, you  _don't_. I— I—"  _Here goes nothing._  "I… need to talk to you about some things."

He could feel Japan's eyes on him but kept his gaze on his twin. Canada looked intrigued but also suspicious. Would he understand? America supposed he was about to find out.

"Did you know Ironwood is the reason we're here?" he began, hoping to jog his brother's memory while keeping it vague. They  _were_  in a public place after all.

"No." Canada said shortly.

_So much for that._  "Well, he brought us here to help someone. Someone who is special like us and who was hurt. Who is  _still_  hurt. I still need to save them."

There was still no recognition in his twin's eyes, no sparking light or horrified shadows as he recalled the whole story. In fact, Canada looked as confused as Japan.

America released a frustrated breath. "That's why I  _need_  to stay. To save that person, which will save a lot more people. I'm the only one who can save them."

He really should have picked a better place to talk about this, one where he could flat out say 'I have to become the personification of Vale'. America's stomach cramped with unease.

Canada sighed. "I'm certain that is not true, Al."

He didn't get it. He didn't understand. Bitter frustration burned in America's throat.

"It  _is_  true. No one else can do this. I'm the only o-one who c-can." His voice cracked and he clapped a hand over his mouth to keep any other noise from escaping. Apparently it was not frustration in his throat, but sadness trying to choke him with its jagged claws.

_Shit._

Japan was the one who noticed first. He put a hand on America's arm, stopping Canada from responding as he noticed the reserved nation initiating physical contact.

"I believe you, Alfred-kun." He said calmly. "If you need to be the hero of these people, then you should do it."

" _I need to ask you to be a hero, Alfred."_

America's skin went cold.

Canada nodded slowly. "I… agree. You should not let other's dictate who you can and cannot save. The Alfred I know would never back down when challenged by adversity. If your heart wants to help, then you should follow it." He smiled gently. "That is what a hero would do."

" _I need to ask you to be a hero, Alfred."_

" _I need you to agree to become Vale."_

Something in America snapped.

"Well maybe I _don't_ _ **want**_ _to be the hero!_ " he snarled.

Japan and Canada recoiled. America's body shook and he stood up, wrapping his arms around himself with one hand pressed over his mouth. He tried to breath but each inhale was shaky, trembling like his hands as tears pricked at his eyes. They did not know what he meant. They did not know what he might have to sacrifice. He knew if they were aware they would vehemently protest against his duty but they didn't.

His brother and best friend were unknowingly telling him to die.

They stood carefully, with Japan hanging back while Canada approached, hand outstretched peacefully.

"Al?" he questioned, soft and sorrowful and concerned. "What did we say?"

A weight pressed down on America, the stress of his future too much to handle. He felt it in his chest as well, growing hotter and stronger like a balloon ready to burst. He knew it was Vale's power that sought to escape, to blast away those that unintentionally hurt him. But they were in a public place. Anyone could be watching.

His eyes darted about in paranoia and he saw a familiar camera crew nearby, interviewing what appeared to be Mercury about the Festival.

_**Shit**_.

He had to get out of here. He had to escape.

So America did the only thing he could.

He ran.

XXXXXXX

Yang was on top of the world. Team RWBY had made it to the singles rounds and soon she would bring her team to the gold. Even though the next batch of rounds would not start until tomorrow, the blond-haired brawler was so excited she could not sit still.

So antsy was she that when Weiss agitatedly demanded she go get food to give them a few moments of peace, Yang happily complied without a pun. She was in such a good mood she had even offered to buy Emerald a meal when she ran into her friend in the hallway, but the green-haired girl had refused. Her loss.

Yang walked away from the main building and towards the Fairgrounds, thinking about the different vendors and breathing in the scents of the fair. Maybe she should get some cotton candy? Then she could pretend to be on a sugar high and annoy Weiss even more.

_I should be nicer. My teammate did sacrifice herself for me today_ , Yang thought, amused.

She'd get cotton candy for all of them then. But first, food. Hopefully someone would give her a tray she could take back to their room…

Yang yelped as someone slammed into her, falling back a step but keeping her balance. Her assaulter did the same, and Yang growled, brushing her messed blond hair out of her face.

"Hey! Watch where you're going you little—"

Violet eyes met brown and pink.

It was  _her_.

The girl from the train.

White-hot fire ignited in Yang's veins, ripping through her every pore and turning her eyes red. " _You_ …"

The girl smirked.

Yang punched at her, and the girl predictably dodged. Thankfully, Ember Cecelia was still around her wrists from the earlier fight, and she had plenty of ammo left. The brawler punched again and her hated opponent evaded the strike, skipping backwards daintily. Smug little  _bitch_.

Yang struggled to keep her head, the indignation of her previous defeat still bitterly fresh in the her mind. Keeping a level head was not her strong suite but she had to try. She wasn't about to fall for the same tricks as last time.

So when the girl evaded her punches and kicks again, Yang slammed her fists together, gathering some kinetic energy. She swung at the girl, aiming for her face, and her opponent finally brought out that damn umbrella, batting her strike downward. Yang bared her teeth and jabbed rapidly, forcing the girl to block the blows. She must have gotten better because the girl appeared to be moving slower than last time. Good.

_It looks like that training payed off._

Bullets flew from her gauntlets, their aim precise and true, and each one hit the girl, almost like she was flinging herself into the path of the shots instead of away. Yang feinted a blow and gave the girl a left hook directly to the jaw. She stumbled but maintained that irritating smirk, and the brawler's fury doubled. Yang struck her in the throat and her mouth opened in a silent gasp, and she grabbed the girl before she could recover, smashing her knee into her opponent's abdomen.

The girl dropped her weapon, the umbrella falling to the floor with a metallic clatter. Yang kept her hold on her opponent, quick to press her advantage. She wanted to see how the girl would dodge or escape  _now_. It was gratifying to see the annoying imp writhe uselessly in an attempt to escape.

Yang did not let up her assault, keeping an eye for the telltale flash of her opponent's Aura. She was mad, sure, but she did not want to kill the girl. Just beat her up enough so she could be taken into custody. That did not stop Yang from feeling a vindictive glee as she punched the girl repeatedly in the face and torso.

It was like she was not even fighting back, or was  _purposely_  falling into the path of Yang's strikes, shifting her body to make sure that the bullets did not go past her. It was amusing to think that, but Yang knew it was because she had gotten stronger. She was  _winning_.

At first the girl tried to break away, but Yang's increased strength made sure she could not, and soon she did little to resist except shield her face. The pathetic display infuriated Yang further. How could this be the same girl that smirked so arrogantly in their last battle? Or maybe the coward was showing her true colors. Once the odds turned against her, she was a pathetic weakling.

That didn't mean Yang felt no thrill as she beat her. As the girl's attempts to defend herself grew feebler, the brawler knew her enemy would soon fall. Sure of her victory, Yang released her enemy, letting her stagger back a useless step. She could not resist a taunt before the final blow.

"This time, I win." She hissed.

Triumphant, Yang punched the girl straight in the stomach, a shotgun blast reflecting off the white of her clothes.

Except it was not the girl.

Pink and brown hair was blond.

Pale skin was tan.

White clothes were blue.

Just like sky blue eyes.

Alfred met Yang's shocked violet eyes, confusion plastered over his paling face. Slowly his gaze dropped, and he put quivering hands to the gunshot wounds in his abdomen, quickly staining them red. Sound and thoughts returned in a rush and Yang stepped towards her friend as horrified screams reached her numb ears.

"Al—" she whispered.

Something cold hit Yang, sending her flying back. She struck the ground hard enough to leave a crater but immediately pushed herself up, looking desperately back at her friend. A low wail reached her before her vision focused and her ears identified the source before her eyes could.

Matthew held his brother, guiding him slowly to the ground as he gave a wordless scream of grief. Yang stayed in the crater, watching numbly as Matthew's hands joined Alfred's in attempting to stem the flow of blood that came from his abdomen, the crimson indiscernible from the red of his hoodie.

Around them, terrified civilians ran about, trying to flee the scene in a panic, with a few Samaritans trying to approach the brothers. None went near Yang, though some watched her with fearful eyes, like a Grimm stood before them instead of a human. She barely noticed, only seeing the brothers. Even through all the noise, she could hear Alfred speaking.

"Stay awake…" he mumbled. "Stay awake…"

Matthew's wails became soft sobs and he seemed unable to form a sentence, mumbling half-uttered assurances and pleas in his brother's ear. Yang got to her feet, stumbling towards the twins, only to feel cold metal at her throat. She forced her gaze down and met teary brown eyes.

"Stay away from them." Kiku Honda whispered, voice shaking with suppressed rage. When Yang did not move, his brown eyes hardened. "Get  _BACK!_ "

"Sir, please stand down."

An Atlesian soldier materialized next to him, placing a hand on his shoulder. Kiku did not move, keeping his sword leveled at Yang's jugular.

The soldier remained calm. "We'll handle this, sir."

A shudder went through Kiku's thin frame. He lowered the sword and stood back, furious— _shocked-bewildered-accusing- **WHY?**_ — eyes never leaving Yang.

"Help my friend." He demanded.

"We already are." The soldier assured him.

Yang looked past the soldiers and Knights that surrounded her, watching blankly as Alfred was attended to by medics. Matthew held his brother's hand, speaking softly and desperately to him as tears ran down his cheeks.

Alfred was not moving. His eyes were closed. Yang barely felt it as her weapons were taken away and manacles locked around her wrists in place of them. She now saw that Alfred's shut eyes were red-rimmed. Had he been crying? Had he been begging her to stop as she beat him? She had been fighting the pink and brown-haired girl. She was certain of it.

But she hadn't been.

She hadn't been fighting a criminal.

Yang had been hurting Alfred.

Her  _friend_.

She tore her gaze away, looking at the horrified civilians that had witnessed her assault. Among the shocked faces, a camera lens looked back at her, and she saw her own ashen face projected on the many screens showing news footage from the Festival. By that point, Yang was too numb to care.

As she was dragged away by the soldiers, Alfred was carried off on a stretcher, Matthew and Kiku at his sides. He was injured by her land, leaving a pool of blood on the ground. There was so much. Too much. On the floor and Matthew's clothes and her hands.

She had possibly killed her friend.

None of the soldiers comforted Yang as she quietly began to cry.

XXXXXXX

_BREAKING NEWS!_

_A lavender-haired woman sat behind a familiar desk in the news station, hands folded neatly on the tabletop before her. Her expression was solemn and unflappable, but the slight frown on her lips and discomforted look in her eyes told the viewers she was unsettled. The tagline below her announced "HORRIFIC ASSAULT ON BEACON CAMPUS!" in bright red letters._

" _A day of fun and festivities has turned into a nightmare." Lisa Lavender began. "As those of you who watched our three o'clock segment are aware, earlier today a brutal attack was caught live on camera by our very own Cyril Ian and his camera crew. While interviewing Haven student Mercury Black, the young man revealed the identity of the boy who saved a little girl from being hit by a vehicle just last week as a Beacon student on the fairgrounds."_

_A video appeared in the corner of the screen, showing a blond-haired boy shoving a little girl out of the path of a large truck. The footage changed to a grey-haired teenager, who was nodding at the interviewer._

" _Yeah, what Al did was pretty heroic." He said, the banner below him identifying him as Mercury Black, a student of Haven Academy._

"' _Al'?" Cyril asked._

_Black adopted a confused expression. "You didn't know it was Al? He's right there is you want to talk to him."_

_The camera turned, showing a familiar blond-haired figure running off._

" _After him, after him!" Cyril said urgently. "Thank you, Mister Black."_

_A faint 'No problem' came from off-screen._

" _The crew soon caught up to the young man, later identified as 'Alfred F. Jones' but tragically, a simple interview was not in store for them." Lisa said gravely in voiceover._

_The footage skipped ahead, showing 'Al' bumping into a blond-haired girl who had been all over the screens just hours earlier. Cheerful features turned enraged, lilac eyes turned red, and she swung at him. The video paused._

" _Due to the graphic nature of what happens next, we will not be showing it." Lisa said. "After the accidental collision, Yang Xiao Long— a student of Beacon Academy and member of Team RWBY— proceeded to assault Jones, beating him until his Aura broke before shooting him in the stomach with her shotgun gauntlets. Throughout the attack you can hear Jones pleading with Xiao Long to stop, all while intentionally diving into the path of her shots to protect nearby civilians. There has been no news on the medical status of Jones, but official sources say he is in the intensive care unit and may be in critical condition."_

_The video in the corner changed to Cyril._

" _After providing an eyewitness account of the events and giving a copy of the footage to police, Cyril is back out on the streets, seeing what his fellow witnesses and civilians feel about this terrible event. Cyril?"_

_The image of Cyril took up the whole screen. "It truly is a tragic day, Lisa. What should have been a day of peace and celebration is now a day of violence, uncertainty, and fear. I'd say 'shock' is the primary emotion many are feeling right now, and I cannot blame them. No one saw a tragedy like this coming."_

_A blond-haired citizen appeared on the screen, shaking his head. "I still can't believe it. I saw the live broadcast and I still couldn't believe my eyes."_

" _Those students are supposed to protect us, not go around trying to murder people!" an angry brown-haired woman snarled._

" _I heard that boy's older brother was going to take him out of Beacon for some reason. My little sister heard them arguing about it. I wonder if his brother knew something." Another man revealed. He ran a hand through his hair, clearly unsettled. "The kid wasn't officially a student yet. He was practically a civilian."_

" _Huntresses are supposed to protect us from Grimm." a middle-aged woman said shakily. "But who will protect us from_ _ **them**_ _?"_

" _My family was at the Fairgrounds when it happened. We heard the gunshots." A man from Mistral said faintly. "We would have been in that section if my four year-old didn't have to go use the bathroom. We were just about to go play some games…" He grimaced. "I don't feel like my family is safe here. We're heading home tonight."_

" _That girl was out of control!" a red-haired man exclaimed. "Don't they have psychology tests before they're allowed in Beacon? She can't be stable. That kid bumped into her and she went_ _ **ballistic**_ _."_

" _I feel so bad for his brother." A woman from Vacuo said softly. "That boy with him had to be his twin, right? My prayers go out to his family."_

" _Why the [bleep] did it take those Atlas guys so long to interfere?!" a black-haired man demanded. "That's what I want to know. If that kid didn't do anything a whole lot of civilians would be dead!"_

" _It's horrible." A woman sobbed as a little girl clung to her leg. "That boy saved my daughter's life and this is how he's repaid? It's awful!"_

" _Forget Atlas." A citizen from Vale growled. "What about those students? There had to be a bunch there and_ _ **none**_ _of them lifted a finger to help. It's disappointing to be honest. Those students are supposed to be Huntsmen and Huntresses in training but they just stood by and watched as another student was being beaten to death in public." He sneered. "What '_ _ **heroes**_ _'."_

" _Alfred used to work at my shop." An elderly man said. "He is such a kind soul and a hard worker too. He genuinely wants to be a hero and save people. He— H-He was so excited to go to B-Beacon…" Tears leaked from the corners of the shopkeeper's eyes and he turned away from the camera._

_The video returned to Lisa Lavender._   _"Due to today's events, the next stage of the Vytal Festival Tournament has been delayed as an investigation is conducted by Atlas personnel. However, it is predicted the Tournament will resume the day after tomorrow. The site of the attack and the surrounding Fairgrounds, however, will remain closed indefinitely."_

" _Many are understandably outraged by what happened, and security's slow response has only increased the scrutiny put on General Ironwood, Headmaster Ozpin, and their forces." Her features darkened. "What should have been the safest place in Vale was turned into a site of tragedy, a tragedy which was committed by someone who should have been training to protect humanity. Instead, she turned against and hurt even her friend. That brings up two very important questions for all of us: Will the truth behind this incident be revealed? And if we cannot rely on our Huntsmen to protect us, who can we trust?"_

Cinder turned off the news.

Taking a moment, she searched within herself, sensing the unease and uncertainty of the citizens of Vale. Their fear did not bother her like it would a 'nation'. In fact, it did quite the opposite. It enthralled her. The pieces of the plan were falling neatly into place. She turned to an expectant Emerald and slouching Mercury and allowed herself a close-lipped smiled.

"You both did well today."

"Thank you, ma'am." Emerald said.

"Just doin' my job." Mercury replied casually. "It wasn't easy getting the news crew in the right spot, let me tell you that."

"Really? And here I thought you were born to be in front of the camera and manipulate the masses." Emerald said snidely.

Mercury scoffed, crossing his arms. "Yeah, right." He stretched. "So what now? You still need me to break a leg in the one v. one rounds?"

Cinder's eyes drifted over her Scroll, amber irises lighting up as the latest information from Ironwood's personal device appeared on the screen. "That won't be necessary. You won't be fighting a Beacon student."

"Good." Mercury approved. He gestured at his shins. "Fixing these things is a pain."

"Of course  _that's_  your issue." Emerald muttered.

Cinder looked at her, and the green-haired thief stiffened, red eyes cautiously hopeful. Emerald was so easy to read it was laughable. She wanted praise for her actions like a puppy that returned to its master with a stick. Cinder supposed she could indulge her just this once.

"You in particular exceeded my expectations, Emerald. How did you get Xiao Long to react so violently?"

Red eyes flicked to Neo, who sat in the corner and played on her Scroll with a bored expression. "The bimbo is a prideful hothead with anger issues. I knew she'd respond badly to seeing someone who beat her so easily. You'd better watch out for her in the future, Neo."

The disguised girl rolled her green eyes and dismissed the sarcastic warning.

"Your concern for your teammate is…  _admirable_ , but I don't think it's necessary." Cinder mused aloud. "Xiao Long won't be freed any time soon, and if Ozpin pulls some strings, the public certainly will  _not_  approve."

"Should we do something with that?" Mercury questioned.

Cinder considered it but shook her head. "No. We don't need to. The seeds of mistrust are already in place." She looked at the schematics of P.E.N.N.Y and smirked. "They're just about ready to sprout."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (hides in a bunker)
> 
> Did anyone see that coming? You thought I was just going to do canon Yang versus Mercury, didn't you? Oh, you naïve, ignorant little readers…
> 
> Don't underestimate me and my evilness. :)
> 
> Please comment! I really want to know what you think.


	17. Aftershock

"Team RWBY is disqualified."

None of the three girls spoke as Ironwood gave the news. Ruby knew their silence was not because of what the General just said. The fact that they had been barred from the Tournament was a miniscule, inconsequential thing when compared to everything else.

Alfred was in the hospital.

Yang put him there.

When Ruby saw what was happening on the screen just a couple hours ago, she'd frozen. She could not move, could not tear her eyes away, could only  _watch_ , her gasp drawing Blake and Weiss's attention to the newsfeed. She'd numbly witnessed Yang pulverize Alfred, watching speechlessly as the twin tried to talk her down between blocking shots with his body. Shots that would have hit innocent bystanders as they witnessed or fled or screamed.

For a brief moment, Ruby had deluded herself into believing the girl onscreen was not her sister, because Yang would never attack someone with such murderous hatred in her eyes. She'd watched her sister grab Alfred. She'd watched him falter beneath the assault. She watched his Aura shatter in a flash of blue-green energy. Then the final blow had connected.

Weiss might have screamed.

Ruby just felt cold.

The feed cut out as Alfred was rushed to the hospital, and Yang was arrested by security.

None of them did anything for a long time, simply staring at the 'technical difficulties' message on the screen. Weiss had moved first, heading towards the door, only to be stopped by Professor Goodwitch. Ruby vaguely recalled the Heiress arguing with the teacher, only to return to her bed and sit down obediently.

Everything was a haze for the period of time until Ironwood showed up to tell them they were disqualified. The news finally shoved Ruby out of the haze and back into her body.

"Wait." She croaked as Ironwood made to leave. "Where's Yang?"

Neutral blue eyes looked at her. "Your sister is being held in Vale Police Department for now."

"What about Alfred?" Weiss asked.

Ironwood's face revealed nothing of what he thought about her asking the question. He could be sympathetic, uncaring, or furious that they'd dared to ask for all they knew. "He is in the hospital. I am as unaware of his status as you are."

" _I don't know if he's alive or dead."_  Ruby heard. She blinked back tears.

Weiss put a comforting arm around her shoulders. "Please tell us once you know something, sir."

"I can't make any promises." Ironwood replied. He paused in the doorway, one hand on the doorknob. "I suggest staying in your room for tonight. Ozpin is attempting to keep the reporters at bay but some might get lucky."

"Thank you, sir." Weiss said calmly.

Ruby wished she had her partner's unflappable control. Ironwood nodded and shut the door behind him, leaving Team RWBY alone. Though now it was just Team 'RWB'. Like Rube. Or Rubes. Yang's nickname for her. The girl's eyes burned and she rubbed at them with her sleeve. She felt Weiss pull on her and was surprised to be yanked into an awkward but firm hug. She struggled for a moment but went limp, allowing her partner to console her.

"Yang wouldn't do this." Ruby whispered into the Heiress's shoulder.

"I know." Weiss said.

"But she did." Blake interjected, equally softly. The Faunus sat on her bed, knees pulled up to her chest and a distant look in her yellow eyes. She did not appear to notice Weiss's furious glare. "Alfred is in the hospital. Yang attacked him and put him there."

"No, that's not what happened." Ruby denied, shaking her head.

"It  _did_." Blake retorted, voice still quiet. "We all saw it."

"Something had to occur that we're unaware of. Yang wouldn't hurt someone like that." Weiss interrupted angrily. "Maybe it was stress-induced. That can happen."

Blake slowly lifted her head and looked at them. " _Stress_  can make a person go ballistic and try to murder a friend?"

Ruby twitched, resisting the urge to cover her ears. She was not a child. She could handle this discussion. She was a strong team leader.

_What kind of team leader doesn't notice her sister is about to have a psychotic break?_  Ruby physically recoiled as she thought it.  _Stop it. It's not Yang's fault. Or Alfred's. It isn't. Something else happened._

"She just got out of battle. Maybe when he bumped into her it triggered her instincts." Weiss defended Yang.

"That wasn't 'instinct'. That was a  _beat down_. She kept attacking after his Aura broke." Blake's voice grew monotone, gaining an eerily flat edge.

Ruby's stomach churned. She curled up slightly, mashing her lips together. Weiss rubbed her back soothingly, shooting Blake another glare.

"I can't believe this! Yang is your partner. You know her better than that."

"People change." Blake whispered. "I've seen it happen before."

"Not like that." Weiss snapped. "She isn't a monster."

Ruby hiccupped. She put her hood over her head, pulling it down over her face. A couple tears dripped past the fabric and onto her lap but she did not wipe them away, keeping her hands clenched. Zwei jumped into her field of vision and she opened her arms, allowing him to stand on her legs. The dog licked her face and whined.

"I'll be okay, boy." She whispered, trying to believe it. Another thought struck her and her stomach lurched. "Dad. What if  _Dad_  saw what happened?"

"I'm sure he didn't. He's on a mission, right?" Weiss soothed.

Her words did not help. In fact, they had the opposite effect. Ruby hugged Zwei tightly, burying her face in his fur. "That's even worse. He's going to return from his mission and Yang's going to be in  _j-jail_."

The dam holding in her emotions shattered and Ruby burst into tears. She might have tried harder to prove her strength and control so Yang would not tease her, but Yang  _was not there_. She was in jail because she attacked and badly injured Alfred, their  _friend_. Ruby felt Weiss and Blake hug her, bodies pressing against her sides, but could not find comfort in their warm embraces.

"H-How did this happen?" she asked tearfully.

"I don't know." Weiss replied helplessly. "I… just don't know."

A hesitant knock made the two older girls look up.

"Is this a bad time?" Ruby heard Jaune ask.

"I don't think another time would be better." Weiss replied wearily.

Four sets of footsteps entered and the door clicked shut again. A familiar pair of sneakers appeared in front of Ruby, and Jaune knelt before her, looking beneath her hood and at her tear-streaked face.

"We saw what happened. We know something is weird about it. We'll figure this out." He promised.

"Do you have any news?" Blake asked.

"Not officially." Pyrrha said. "We ran into Alfred's friends in the hall. They were on their way to the hospital. They said Matthew, Arthur, and Kiku were already there."

Ruby felt ill. She'd almost forgotten about Alfred's older brother— older  _brothers_ , actually. Both Arthur and technically Matthew were the older siblings. Their youngest sibling was in the hospital. Because of Yang.

What would Yang be thinking and feeling if it were Ruby who had been hurt by a 'friend'? The red-cloaked girl knew the answer and it only made her mood worsen.

"Do they hate us?" she whispered. She could feel all of their eyes on her but only looked at Jaune and Zwei.

The knight's blue eyes were clouded with sorrow. "Of those we saw, Francis was the most visibly upset. He… wanted us to tell you that they don't blame any of you for what happened. Though…" He winced. "I could see that was not true for all of them."

"Ivan looked really mad." Nora said. "He gave off this weird aura and kept muttering something under his breath. It sounded like 'coal'?"

"They agreed to tell us once they get an update on Alfred's condition." Pyrrha interjected.

"That's good." Blake said lamely.

An uneasy silence fell over them all. Ruby played with Zwei's paws and scratched him behind the ears. The dog's tongue lolled adorably and her lips twitched. Her joy soon faded. "What's going to happen to Yang?"

Everyone looked at Weiss. The Heiress pulled her fingers through her white hair agitatedly. "It depends on what happens to Alfred and what else they find. If he surv— If he's fine, I doubt he'll press charges. He'll probably defend Yang. If something like this had happened in the Tournament, we'd probably just face disqualification like we did here. But… this isn't in school. It's  _assault_. At best Yang may be put on probation. She may be expelled. At worst…"  _If Alfred dies._  "…she could go to prison for assault, manslaughter, or murder."

The words snapped Ruby out of her tearful stupor. Determination rushed to take sorrow's place. "Yang  _wasn't_  trying to murder Alfred! Something happened to make her attack like that."

"Are you blaming Alfred?" Ren asked mildly.

Ruby shook her head. "Of course not. I mean someone else must have done something to Yang to make her freak out."

"Like what?" Blake asked half-heartedly.

Ruby faltered. "I… um…"

"Maybe a drug?" Jaune suggested. "Poison? A Semblance?"

"The police would have done blood tests to see if she was under the influence of a substance." Weiss said immediately. She frowned. "As for a Semblance…"

"What's with that dismissive tone?" Jaune asked. "Surely there are Semblances that can affect people's heads."

"Well, yes." Weiss admitted. "But proving it was used would be nearly impossible, even if we did find the person responsible. You'd have to get a confession out of them because there wouldn't be any evidence left behind other than a person's claims."

"Yang could have been framed!" Hope blossomed in Ruby's chest at the idea. "Someone could have made her attack Alfred."

"But why?" Pyrrha questioned. "To get rid of the competition? He isn't participating in the Tournament."

"People  _can_  be that petty." Ren acknowledged.

"So what do we do? How do we find out if someone has a Semblance that messes with people's brains?" Jaune asked.

"We'll break their legs." Nora offered seriously.

"No, Nora." Ren sighed.

"Well, if it's a student, they might have used this Semblance in a fight before." Blake said slowly. "We could ask the people we know if anything weird happened during their battles."

"We should probably stick to people we know for certain wouldn't do this." Weiss cautioned. "We don't want to tip off the mastermind."

"What do you mean by 'for certain'?" Blake questioned. "I don't know if we can trust anyone whose Semblance we are unaware of."

"Hey, Team CFVY and Emerald are our friends!" Ruby protested.

Yellow eyes locked with silver. "And yet your mind instantly went to them when I said that."

Ruby could not think of a retort.

Music burst to life, making more than one person jump. Jaune blinked, then patted at his pockets, laughing awkwardly.

"Sorry. It's…" He looked at the Scroll and paled. "…mine."

The knight stood and walked out of the room, answering the call. Ruby's stomach twisted back into a pretzel and her skin went clammy. Weiss and Blake— either consciously or not— grabbed her hands, and they and NPR waited for Jaune's return with baited breath.

Jaune came back in, Scroll held limply in one hand. His expression made Ruby's heart plummet. The knight looked up, visibly faltering as he saw their expectant faces, and dropped his gaze back to his Scroll.

"I…" He could not meet their eyes.

Blake inhaled audibly, closing her eyes. "Just tell us."

With a final, remorseful look Ruby's way, he did.

"Alfred is in a coma."

XXXXXXX

_Beep… Beep… Beep… Beep…_

_Tick… tock… tick… tock…_

The sounds of the heartrate monitor and clock echoed in tandem, joining together to create a noise Canada was certain would drive him insane. In the silence of the hospital room the noises were deafening, and he despised them as much as he needed them. The beeping of the heart monitor showed America still lived, while the ticking of the clock was another second that he still breathed.

That did not negate the fact that— by a nation's standards— America had died.

Canada had heard the doctors murmuring to each other after the surgery, trapped somewhere between their relief that they 'had not lost' their patient and confused as to exactly  _how_  Alfred had fallen into a coma. To them, it did not make medical sense. He could not blame them for their puzzlement. They did not know any better. Nations were not like humans. They only went into a comatose state when they received a mortal wound.

In other words, if Alfred were human,  _he would be dead._

Yang had killed his brother.

_Beep… Beep… Beep… Beep…_

_Tick… tock… tick… tock…_

Canada could not lift his head from his hands, the ticking of the clock and the beeping of the machines only adding to his fear that he was going to be sick. He did not want to listen but the alternative to listening was  _thinking_. He could not let himself think more than one question.

_Why?_

The sound of shifting cloth interrupted the steady beeping and ticking but Canada still did not look up. There was no point in doing so. He already knew it was England who sat in the other chair, holding Cobalt Striker tightly like he feared someone would take the weapon from him. The hospital had been fine with them all carrying weapons, though the police  _had_  attempted to add the bat to their stockpile of evidence. They had relented after England refused to give the blue weapon up. Even now he would not let go of it and Canada could not begin to theorize why.

His thoughts drifted back to when England had arrived at the hospital, moments after America had been wheeled into surgery. Arthur had seen the attack on TV and come as soon as he could. Canada knew he would never forget the scene.

_At first, a distantly familiar shout was all that broke through the fog covering Canada's mind as he stared blankly at the door between himself and his injured twin. It was all he could do. Stare. Staring at the door was better than staring at the pale-faced Japan or his own blood-covered clothes—_

_He nearly sank into oblivion again at the reminder but pulled himself out, forcing interest in the shouts to keep himself anchored. The bellows soon became words and the mist cleared further, allowing the numb nation to become fully aware of the world once more._

" _Sir!" a stranger's voice said, sounding harried. "Sir, you can't go in—"_

" _Get out of my way!" the familiar voice— England— snarled. "Let me_ _ **go!**_ _"_

_Canada turned, body moving on its own when he saw the nation struggling in two hospital workers' holds. Another worker— a nurse?— stood bravely in front of the incensed Englishman, one hand stretched out to keep him back._

" _Sir, I need you to calm down." She said levelly. "You can't be here—"_

" _I have_ _ **every right**_ _to be here!" England shouted. "_ _ **He's my brother!**_ _My little brother…"_

_Canada reached them in time to catch Arthur as he fell to his knees, covering his face as his shoulders shook. The younger nation did not say anything, merely sinking to the floor with his older brother in his arms and laying his head on his shoulder. He pretended not to notice England's quiet sobs and simply struggled to silently comfort him while selfishly seeking warm comfort himself._

_The hospital staff left them alone to grieve._

Canada pulled himself from his thoughts, glancing at the last occupant of the room. Japan was equally quiet, though that could be considered normal for him. He sat next to the window, gazing out at Vale's streets with his blank face reflecting in the glass. The icy anger that had claimed him earlier appeared to be gone, and Canada had no clue what the nation was currently thinking. He  _must_  be upset, but about what? America's condition? That the doctors claimed they could only wait and hope for the best? Or maybe he was silently cursing Yang?

America and Canada's  _'friend'_  Yang, who was the reason the twin was lying unconscious in a hospital bed.

_**Why…?** _

Hurried footsteps approached, muffled by the closed door, only to halt before the newcomers entered. Canada looked at it expectantly, hoping for a distraction from the melancholy and panic simmering under his prickling skin. Instead, loud voices came from outside.

"What do you think  _you're_  doing here?" He heard Prussia growl.

" _Bruder_." Germany said warningly.

"It's fine." Canada tensed as he heard Ozpin's calm tones. "We just came to see if there was anything we could do to help. I understand that you do not want to see us."

Canada was suddenly glad the other nations had insisted on sitting outside America's hospital room. They would stop any unwanted figures from entering, even though the hospital staff had apparently decided the Headmaster of Beacon was allowed to see his 'student'. The violet-eyed nation felt a slight pain in his palms and realized his nails had bitten his skin. He exhaled softly as he released his clenched fists, glad to see that he had not drawn blood. He made a note to tell the staff that Ozpin was not welcome.

"That is an understatement." Prussia snarled. "So where are the other two co-conspirators?"

"Ironwood had other matters to deal with." Glynda's voice came next. "Qrow is… also busy."

Russia scoffed. "You mean he is with the murderess?"

Canada winced. There was a beat of tense silence.

Russia laughed. "What is with those faces? Are you angry I speak the truth?"

"I thought Alfred was stable." Ozpin said, an urgent undertone creeping into his voice.

"He is." Germany confirmed.

"Then why—?"

"I called the murderess that because that is what she is" Russia interrupted with sadistic vehemence.

"We aren't like your nations." Prussia butted in. "When our bodies are mortally wounded we slip into a coma. Most of the time we heal and awaken soon enough. Other times…" He trailed off.

There was a beat of silence.

"'Mortally wounded'?" Glynda whispered. "You mean…?"

"If America were human, he would have passed away." France said flatly, speaking for the first time in a while.

England set down Cobalt Striker and stood abruptly, chair making a loud scraping sound as he shoved it backwards on the tile floor.

"Francis!" he bellowed loudly, storming towards the doorway. "Get them to leave or  _I'll make them_."

France appeared in the doorway. "Arthur—"

"Not a  _word_." The green-eyed nation snarled. "The  _only_  reason we are still here is because we cannot risk moving Alfred to get him home. The portal's too bloody unstable. If it we up to me, we'd be gone from this God-forsaken city and leave it to  _rot_. I don't know about the rules here, but I'm bloody  _appalled_  that those two were allowed in here. You are not Alfred's family and you have  _no right_  to be here. You've already  _'helped'_   enough." He glared past France and his voice grew eerily calm. "If any of you step a single foot in here,  _I will shoot you_ , consequences be damned."

There was another pause.

England gripped his staff, the end glowing green. " _Leave._ "

Apparently the two teachers did so, for the enraged nation slammed the door shut and returned to his seat, collapsing in the chair and putting his head in his hands.

"You bloody idiot…" he whispered. "You selfless  _fool_ …"

Neither Canada nor Japan could think of anything to say. Japan hesitantly picked up Cobalt Striker where it had fallen on the floor, holding the bat with both hands as he reclaimed his seat by the window. Canada almost wanted to ask for the weapon but the thought of touching it made his skin crawl. The pump-action shotgun bayonet-bat was a weapon of Remnant. It transformed and used Dust bullets. It was a sign of a Huntsman and product of this world…

He  _loathed_  it and everything it represented.

_I wish we never came to Beacon._

Canada had been caught up in having people notice him and making friends that he practically forgot about his concerns. He forgot about Atlas's shady action, his vague memories, and all his other misgivings. He had forgotten that maybe he should not trust these strangers from a dangerous, alien world.

Could he have let his emotions blind him so much? Could he truly have misjudged Yang so badly?

_Beep… Beep… Beep… Beep…_

_Tick… tock… tick… tock…_

The door squeaked open and Italy poked his head through. His brown eyes were open for once, and he looked at each of them nervously. The Italian seemed to steel himself and smiled, entering the room.

"Ve~ I brought pasta." he said, holding up three containers. "It's not mine but it still looks very good. You three should eat."

Canada could not find the energy to deny him. Apparently England could not either for he took the offered plastic dish without complaint. Japan was the only one to speak, thanking Italy. The three nations settled at the table in the corner of the room, eating silently and almost robotically under Italy's watchful eye. The noodles tasted like cardboard on Canada's tongue but he doubted it was the chef's fault. He only managed to eat half. England ate even less.

Italy labeled each container with a marker and gathered them up. He paused, set the food back down, and grabbed Canada's hand. The violet-eyed nation looked at him, startled by the solemnity in his brown eyes.

"He's going to be okay. He's strong." Italy said seriously, giving his hand a gentle squeeze.

"…I know." The twin murmured.

Canada did know. But knowing did not stop him from feeling betrayed.

XXXXXXX

_It was too late._

_America knew what was going to happen the moment he saw the little girl. Except he did not just see her. Along with the 'girl' he saw the truth. There was in fact no small girl who had crashed her bike on an empty road. There was only Emerald Sustrai. It was a trick._

_How did she not see it? He wanted to call out to Vale to warn her but it was impossible. This was a memory, one from her point of view, and America was a helpless, unwilling spectator. As Amber offered an apple to the fake girl, Emerald made a mistake, causing dust to fly into the air when she moved her foot._

_Amber noticed, instincts screaming, and leapt backwards, activating her staff as her horse abandoned her. Emerald ran at her, firing her weapons but Vale skillfully blocked the shots, sending a burst of wind from her staff and sending Emerald flying with a yelp. They heard footsteps behind them and turned, blocking Mercury's kick with her staff. They—_ _**She** _ _forced both attackers back with a gale, only for Mercury to launch himself off a post at her._

_Vale blasted fire at him from her weapon but he emerged through the flames, kicking her onto her back. Emerald landed on them—_ _**her** _ _hard, cracking the ground beneath her. Her assailants landed in front of her, with Emerald pointing her guns at the nation. Amber stood and her eyes turned green, wind blasting from her. She rose into the air, dark clouds forming above her, and sent lightning shooting down at her foes._

_Emerald and Mercury dodged, shooting at Vale, but the bullets did not reach her. Amber looked to the trees, clenching her fist, and the leaves came on the wind, icing over. She threw them at her enemies and Emerald screamed while Mercury blocked the projectiles with his metal legs._

_America—_ _**Vale** _ _spotted a figure running towards her and shot a blast of fire. Cinder dodged, sliding along the ground and releasing dirt, and the dirt coalesced into glass shards, which she threw at Amber. The nation hit the ground and looked up._

_America saw the three adversaries sprinting towards him. To Vale, they vanished and reappeared. Cinder appeared in front of her, swords raised, but Amber deflected the hits, kicking the woman away. Mercury and Emerald rushed forward to attack and Vale struck them both. Mercury landed a blow in return and Amber rushed him, expression set in angry determination. She punched Emerald and Mercury away and turned on instinct to see Cinder shoot three arrows at her._

_They landed around him— her and exploded with a high whistling noise like a scream, accompanied by her own pained shout as her Aura failed. She gasped lowly as pain quivered through her body and the three approached. She got to her hands and knees and blasted them away with a gust of wind._

_Mercury rushed her but she threw him back with lightning, throwing a fireball at an Emerald America knew was fake. The real Emerald appeared and Vale grabbed her staff, limping towards the dangerous girl as she clutched her aching side. She raised the staff above her head and lurched as agony ripped through her back, something impaling them between the shoulder blades._

_America—_ _**Amber** _ _collapsed and her enemies approached, grabbing her and forcing her into a kneeling position. Too weak to fight, she breathed harshly, watching Cinder with terrified eyes. She watched the woman put on a white glove with a strange red symbol. A small bug-like Grimm appeared from it and their fear doubled._

" _Please don't" Vale whispered._

_The Grimm spat something at her that latched onto their face, making them scream. It felt like acid, burning their skin, but soon the burning became_ _**pure agony** _ _as something in their chest lurched. Vale screamed— and maybe America did too— as her Aura was pulled into the gunk, green energy traveling up Cinder's arm and making her eye glow._

_The pain became too much and Vale-America felt themselves grow weaker, their consciousness fading as Amber's Aura was torn from her. She heard sharp breaths and running footsteps, and the connection abruptly severed before she fell into warm arms. Had they been saved?_

_Vale did not stay conscious long enough to find out, falling into a terrifying void with nothing but her thoughts for company._

_America tried to stay with her, to keep her company and tell her she was not alone, but his own consciousness was torn away from her memories, forced into its own empty isolation._

_He could not feel his body. He could not wake up. His connection with Vale dragged him down, keeping him trapped in unconsciousness like her and unable to awaken._

_However, he could think and comprehend, and what he thought terrified him._

_He finally knew who was responsible for Vale's condition. He knew who the enemy was._

_But the knowledge had come too late._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just so you know, I'm going to update again tomorrow (Thursday) instead of Friday because I won't be able to Friday. See you then!


	18. Scattered Pieces

Canada eyed the news neutrally, only the slight downward curl of his lip showing his anger and disgust. After a single day of delay, the Tournament had continued this morning. The two versus two rounds were over and the one versus ones had commenced. He understood that those in charge wanted to distract people from what had happened at the Fairgrounds but this was ridiculous at best and insensitive at worst. To the nation it felt like they were trying to cover up blood with shiny glitter.

_Have they even cleaned up America's blood yet?_

The twin's scowl deepened and when someone put their hand on his shoulder, he could not stop himself from transferring his glower to them. France backed up a step with his hands raised in surrender.

"Calm down, Matthieu." The nation chided. "I can see the influence that dear Arthur had on you."

"Bugger off." England growled but there was little fire in his tone.

Canada studied the older nation, gaze resting on the dark smudges under his green eyes. He knew England had gotten as much sleep as him the last couple nights— which was to say they got none at all— so he should not be one to talk about how bad others' appearance looked. Out of the three of them, Japan looked the least affected and most composed, but Canada suspected it was through sheer willpower and emotional control. France seemed to agree.

"I think you three need some fresh air." France suggested. "We all do."

"I don't." Italy said immediately. "I can stay with Alfred."

"I will remain as well." Germany volunteered.

"As will the awesome me." Prussia proclaimed. "None shall get close to Alfred with my awesome self here! And even if they did, my awesome self would be able to—" Prussia cringed and winced, putting a hand to his mouth comically. "I bit my tongue…"

Germany looked skyward and muttered something about 'choking on your own ego' under his breath. Canada recognized their not-so-subtle offer to watch over America and make sure no questionable people got to him. He… did not have a problem with it. Germany was trustworthy, Prussia truly cared about America, and Italy was just that considerate when he wanted to be. He noticed they were also looking to him for permission. Him, not England, who seemed to have nothing to say.

"…All right." He agreed. "I suppose we can stretch our legs." He looked down at his shirt and sniffed, wrinkling his nose as he realized he had not changed since France had brought him a clean shirt after the old one was covered in blood. "And take a shower."

Canada  _could_  put on the clothes that France brought along for America but… Well, his reasons for not wanting to should be obvious.

His words woke England from his apparent daze. "If you need new clothes, I will go get them for you."

"I can…" Canada recalled his clothes were all back at Beacon, where the remnants of Team RWBY were. His stomach twisted. "Thank you. I'd appreciate that."

"Remember to take your Scroll." Germany advised.

England blinked. "My what? Oh, right." He took out the phone-like device and glared at it like it was the root of all his problems. "Bloody terminology…"

They all looked to Japan, who had remained silent through the entire conversation.

"I will stay with Alfred-kun." Japan said.

France frowned. "Kiku—"

Japan looked at him with emotionless brown eyes. "I will stay with Alfred-kun." Neither his words, face, nor inflection changed.

France cringed slightly, unnerved. "Of course. Shall we go?"

Canada put Maple Frost in its sheath and followed England, France, and Russia— who the twin suspected might be hoping for a fight at Beacon— out. Thankfully, his former colonizer mentioned getting dinner while the other two retrieved new clothes and other items, so they split up. And Canada did not have to return to Beacon and risk running into the remaining members of Team RWBY…

"Are you all right, Matthieu?" France murmured as they walked down Vale's busy streets.

"I'm fine." He said out of habit. "I just want Alfred to wake up. It's already been a day. He should be better by now."

His brother hugged him with one arm before releasing him. "Do not fear. His heart is strong and we both know he is too stubborn to stay out of the action long. He  _will_  awaken soon."

Canada looked down, kicking a loose stone on the sidewalk. "I suppose…"

"Matthew!"

The violet-eyed nation turned at the sound of his name, surprised to see Penny running towards him. The orange-haired girl halted in front of him, surprisingly not panting despite her sprinting. Instead she grabbed Canada's shoulders urgently.

"Matthew Williams, I must speak with you about something of utmost importance!"

"Eh?" was Canada's eloquent and well-thought out response.

France laughed. "Ohonhonhon! Well, well, Matthieu. You did not inform me you had a girlfriend."

Canada spluttered. "What? No! Penny's not— She's just my—" His denials turned into intelligible gibberish.

Shockingly, Penny brushed off the comment instead of questioning it herself. "I'm not his girlfriend. I am his friend who is a girl. And I have to speak with him alone right now."

France did absolutely nothing as Penny lifted Canada over her head and carried him into an alleyway. The traitor was probably thinking something dirty. Gross. Penny quickly set her kidnapping victim down by a dumpster and grabbed his shoulders again.

"Now that we're away from listeners I need to tell you something." She said solemnly.

"Okay? Go ahead." Canada said slowly.

Penny took a breath. "What happened to Alfred wasn't Yang's fault — Please don't leave!"

Canada had yanked his arm from her grasp but she grabbed him again.

"I need you to listen!" she pleaded. "Alfred told me about Emerald's Semblance. I think she tricked Yang into attacking him!"

That made Canada stop. " _What?_ "

Seeing she had his attention, Penny spoke in a rush. "I don't have proof but I was thinking about it and the pieces fit. Yang would never hurt Alfred and Alfred told me to be wary of Emerald and Emerald's Semblance is hallucinations so I think she might have done something."

Canada did not know what to think. "I…"

"I tried to suggest such a possibility to General Ironwood but he did not believe me." Penny continued miserably. "The thought of someone having a hallucination Semblance did not even cross his mind. He thought I was reading too many comic books and that they were clogging up my logic processes."

Canada still could not summon the ability to speak. His mind reeled. Too many puzzle pieces were missing, but the big picture still made sense. The only question was why Emerald would do such a thing.

_Could she have done it to get at me because I defeated her?_

A pit opened in his stomach at the thought of someone nearly killing his brother to hurt him. He slowly realized what he was thinking and his insides turned into knotted pretzels. A few words from Penny and he was beginning to believe Yang was innocent. But in reality, she could be chasing conspiracy theories. There was only one way to find out.

He needed to talk to Yang.

"Thank you, Penny." He said hurriedly. "I need to go now."

"I'll go with you." The girl said, guessing where he was headed.

"You're not going anywhere."

Both turned to the end of the alleyway. A girl stood there. Dark skin, dark blue hair, blue eyes, and a yellow oval shape on her forehead.

Canada recognized her in an instant.

She had been there.

She had been there when they had—

Memory returned in a rush. His mouth went dry and his skin turned clammy as his vision blurred, flashes of his missing days shooting in his mind's eye.

Getting kidnapped.

Ironwood.

Experiments.

Grimm.

Ciel.

Mantle.

America.

_Vale_.

America was Vale.

America— his brother, a nation of Earth— _was also Vale._

_That's why he wanted to stay_ , Canada thought, horrified.  _He's their_ _ **nation**_ _. He didn't just want to be a hero. He felt he had to protect them because_ _ **they're his people**_ _. Oh my God…_

Suddenly, everything made so much sense. America's distress in the past couple weeks, the weird dreams, people from Vale trusting and helping them easily, Canada's mistrust of Atlas, his bouts of exhaustion— though his connection to Mantle was weaker than Al's would be with Vale because the cold nation was already dying anyway…

"Are you okay?" Penny asked.

Canada could not answer for a moment, eyes still locked with Ciel's—  _Atlas's_. He was torn between getting as far away from the girl as possible— taking Penny with him— and punching her in the face. The look in her eyes informed him that she saw he remembered, the slight condescending tip of her head suggesting the trouble he would be in if he tried anything. Canada almost did not care. He did not know if his fury was his own or Mantle's—  _ **She abandoned and replaced us**_ _._ — but he somehow kept it under control.

"I'm fine." He said neutrally.

Penny did not notice his change in tone. "This is my partner, Ciel. Ciel, this is Matthew, Alfred's brother."

"We've met." Atlas said shortly, still studying him.

Canada wondered if she saw his anger. Regardless, Ciel did not care for she turned to Penny.

"Now that you're done with your 'mission' we need to get to the stadium in case you're picked to fight." Ciel said impatiently.

Penny frowned, glancing at Canada. "But I—"

Atlas's eyes narrowed. " _Now_."

"…Right." Penny said unhappily. She took a few steps away, hesitated, then rushed back to crush Canada in a hug. "Bye."

"Good luck." Canada replied.

He watched them go before heading to the map clearly displayed in a store window. France, England, and dinner could wait. He needed to find the police station.

XXXXXXX

Ruby had not been able to visit Yang. Whenever anyone from Team RWBY dared to exit their room yesterday, they were immediately the center of attention. Some onlookers would whisper to each other while others glared angrily, their disgust with Yang transferring to the entire team. It was enough to make even Weiss falter and retreat back to their room, though it seemed that the anger had finally calmed down slightly. Or maybe people were distracted by the renewed Tournament.

Either way, no one gave Ruby a second glance as she hurried towards Amnity Colosseum. Weiss and Blake were not with her, both unwilling to go anywhere near a place with so many cameras and people. Instead they were at the Fairgrounds on campus. They claimed they were there for food, but Ruby secretly sensed they were trying to search the crime scene and find answers. The thought of seeing the site of the attack made her stomach churn so she did not ask to go along.

Instead she was going to go cheer for Pyrrha and Penny in their upcoming fights. They had to be chosen soon. There were not many rounds left.

Sun and Mercury had already fought— with the latter losing to the former, surprisingly. With no offense to Sun meant, Ruby had a feeling Mercury might have lost on purpose so he would not be in the spotlight anymore. That sounded like him. Emerald always complained about him being unmotivated.

Ruby spotted a familiar figure taking pictures and smiled, walking over to her. "Hey Velvet! What are you doing?"

"Hi Ruby." The rabbit Faunus greeted. "I'm just working on my photography. Do you wanna see?"

Ruby looked at the photo… which cut off most of Sun's head and seemed to be focusing on his— ahem…  _tail area_. Was that intentional? An artistic choice? Either way it looked…  _weird_. "That's…" she tried to think of a compliment. "…better."

Velvet glanced away from her uncertainly. "I'm sorry to hear about your sister. Is she doing okay?"

"I… don't know." Ruby admitted. "I haven't been able to see her."

The older girl's eyes softened with sympathy. "I think it's just awful what people are saying about her. Yang's such a nice person. She wouldn't do something like that."

Despite herself, Ruby felt a smile tug at her lips. "Thanks. I'm glad someone thinks so."

Velvet crossed her arms, head tipped slightly so her bangs fell over her eyes. "Most people don't know what it's like to fight. I mean, even experienced fighters can get scared and start seeing things. If it happened to Coco, it can happen to anyone."

Ruby blinked. "Coco?"

Velvet nodded firmly. "Yeah. She swore she saw Yatsu with her in the forest during the fight with Emerald and Mercury, but he never even made it out of the geyser fields." Velvet shrugged. "Stress-induced hallucinations, apparently."

" _So what do we do? How do we find out if someone has a Semblance that messes with people's brains?" Jaune asked._

Ruby's eyes narrowed. "Yeah…"

She waved goodbye to Velvet and headed into the Colosseum to find a seat.

Sitting down, she spotted Emerald on the other side of the stadium. Mercury and Cinder did not seem to be there. Maybe she should go sit with Emerald. She must be lonely. Ruby stood up, only to return to her seat in disappointment as the empty spaces beside her friend were filled.

Oh well. It looked like she would have to watch the next fight alone.

XXXXXXX

Yang sat on the cot that served as a bed in the jail cell with her knees pulled up to her chest. She had not moved from that spot since being put in the cell two days ago except to eat and go to the bathroom, and did not feel much inclined to try to do more. Uncle Qrow had just left to speak with Ozpin, but his visit had done little to lift Yang's spirits.

She had hurt Alfred. She had nearly killed her friend. She'd begged the police for information about his condition only to be coldly rebuffed, and it was not until Qrow arrived that she learned Alfred was currently comatose.

A coma. She'd put him in a  _coma_.

Yang's eyes still stung but there were no tears left to shed. Instead they burned like the rage that had overtaken her when she had seen 'that girl' who had in fact been Alfred.

If she craned her neck, she could just see a screen attached to the wall that played live footage of the Tournament. A few officers were currently crowded around the video, with some making joking bets about who would be picked next.

When she first came in, it showed footage of her brutal assault on her friend and its grisly aftermath.

She had seen that recording so many times it was practically engraved into her mind, appearing behind her eyelids whenever she dared to close her eyes. It was so clearly painted that she almost doubted that she had ever seen the girl from the train at all. But she could not doubt herself. She knew what happened. Even if no one else believed her.

_Even Uncle Qrow thinks I'm crazy. What about Ruby? What does she think? Is she angry with me too? Is that why she, Weiss, and Blake haven't come to see me?_ Yang sniffled and laid her head on her knees.  _And Alfred… If he ever wakes up, he's probably going to hate me. Curl— Matthew and Arthur too. I'd despise anyone who put Ruby in the hospital._

Yang put her head in her hands, rubbing her face.  _My life is over._   _I sound so overdramatic but it is. Even if someone believes me and Alfred wakes up and is okay, I'll always be the berserker girl that beat a friend to near-death live on the news. I might go to jail and if I don't and they let me back in Beacon, Ozpin will look bad. If it was just seen in Vale, I could try another Academy but that newsfeed went to_ _ **every**_ _Kingdom, even Menagerie. I… I won't be able to become a Huntress._

A shaky laugh bubbled from Yang's quivering lips.  _I'm so selfish. One of my friends is dying and I'm complaining about being kicked out of school. No. I'm better than that. I'll gladly get expelled and go to jail and never become a Huntress if Alfred wakes up. Hear that, Gods? Just let him be okay…_

"—don't have to do this, kid."

Yang looked up as she heard one of the policemen approach. She recognized him as the chief of police, having been interrogated enough by him to identify him by voice alone.

"I mean it." he continued. "It may seem like you have to face the assailant but—"

"That's not why I'm here." Yang's breath caught in her throat when Matthew spoke in his soft, whispery voice. He was  _here_? Why? "I just have to ask her something."

"Sure." The police chief sounded doubtful. "Listen, I'm going to stand right with you to make sure nothing happens."

"Yang won't hurt me." Matthew said.

He sounded so certain. Did… Did he believe her? Yang hardly dared to hope. She stood up, waiting with bated breath as the two appeared before her cell. Her growing confidence shriveled as she spotted Matthew's pale, drawn face. He looked worse than her, and that was saying something. The violet eyes twin forced his eyes to meet hers, the effort it took to make the move obvious.

"Yang." he stated.

"Curl— Matthew." A nickname did not feel appropriate right then.

His eyes roamed over her face. "You… look awful."

She gave a watery laugh. "So do you."

There was a beat of terrible, tense silence that seemed determined to push down on Yang until she was crushed into paste.

"You're my friend." Matthew said abruptly, like the words had burst from him without his intent. "You're Alfred's friend too. I… I want to believe you'd never do something like this. So… so why? What did you see?"

"I swear I didn't see Alfred. I saw the pink-and-brown-haired girl from the train that breached Vale." Yang had said the words so many times she was surprised she had not memorized them. Though she supposed memorization would not help her plea of innocence. "I saw her in the Fairgrounds, so I fought her to bring her in."

"Why didn't you call over security?" Matthew asked.

Yang looked down. "I didn't think of it and… I wanted to beat the girl myself. She defeated me last time and I wanted payback." Suddenly desperate, she approached the bars, placing her hands on them. "When I took that final shot, the girl still had her Aura. It had not broken. I honestly didn't know it was A-Alfred. I didn't know I'd hurt him."

Huh. So she did have more tears left. She wiped them away though because she had to see Matthew's face. She had to see what he thought of her tale. For a while, the twin did not speak, instead searching her expression for the answers he sought. Then he nodded.

"I believe you. Emerald Sustrai has a hallucination Semblance."

"What are you talking about?" the police chief asked sharply.

"I'm not saying it's her." Matthew amended. "But it's possible that someone put an image in Yang's head to make her see an enemy instead of Alfred. Shouldn't you consider it?"

The man thought about it, to Yang's rising hope. "It will be hard to find the culprit but might be possible. Damn. Now I'm wondering how many other wrongful convictions we've made."

"You didn't know." Matthew said sympathetically. He looked back to Yang. " _I believe you_ , Yang. I'm going to help you get out of this. And once Alfred wakes up, I'm sure he will too. You're not alone."

Yang smiled through her tears. "Thank you."

" _OH MY GODS!_ "

The three jumped, turning towards the source of the cry. Yang's mouth fell open in horror as she took in the scene playing on the screen. A one versus one fight between Pyrrha Nikos and Penny Polendina was being broadcasted. Pyrrha had apparently blasted Penny's weapons back at her with her Polarity, and the wires were wrapping around the orange-haired girl's arms and waist—

Yang was sure she was not the only person to scream as Penny was torn limb from limb and bisected… to reveal a metallic interior?

_Penny's… a robot?_

Matthew clapped a hand over his mouth, tears brimming in his violet eyes. "Penny…  _no_ …"

They heard Professor Oobleck shout for someone to kill the feed.

And then the screen turned red with a black queen piece.

XXXXXXX

England, France, and Russia were frozen in Canada and America's former dorm room, a red sweatshirt for Canada clenched in the Brit's hand.

" _This is not a tragedy. This was not an accident. This is what happens when you hand over your trust, your safety, your children, to men who claim to be our guardians, but are in reality nothing more than men."_

Ironwood stormed towards the commentary booth, fists clenched.

" _Our academies' headmasters wield more power than most armies, and one was audacious enough to control both. They cling to this power in the name of peace, and yet, what do we have here?"_

Pyrrha stood near Penny's dismembered body, hand to her mouth as tears pricked at her horrified green eyes.

" _One nation's attempt at a synthetic army mercilessly torn apart by another's star pupil. What need would Atlas have for a soldier disguised as an innocent little girl? I don't think the Grimm can tell the difference."_

Blake and Weiss sat at the noodle stand on the Fairgrounds, eyes on the red screen. The Heiress's mouth was open in shock, while the Faunus's yellow eyes narrowed in anger.

" _And what, I ask you, is Ozpin teaching his students? First, a public homicide, now this? Huntsmen and Huntresses should carry themselves with honor and mercy, yet I have witnessed neither."_

Yang lowered her head, unable to look at the screen or Matthew.

" _Perhaps Ozpin felt as though defeating Atlas in the tournament would help people forget his colossal failure to protect Vale when the Grimm invaded its streets. Or perhaps this was his message to the tyrannical dictator that has occupied an unsuspecting kingdom with armed forces."_

Ozpin looked away from the screen, watching an Atlesian airship fly by his window.

" _Honestly, I haven't the slightest clue as to who is right and who is wrong, but I know that the existence of peace is fragile, and the leaders of our kingdoms conduct their business with iron gloves."_

Emerald slipped out of the stadium to meet up with Mercury.

" _As someone who hails from Mistral, I can assure you the situation there is equally undesirable."_

Two guards watched the broadcast, their backs to the surrounding forest.

" _Our kingdoms are at the brink of war, yet we, the citizens, are left in the dark."_

They heard familiar growling and turned, desperately firing as thousands of Grimm raced towards Vale and the swell of negative emotions they sensed.

" _So, I ask you, when the first shots are fired…"_

Cinder smirked.

"… _who do you think you can trust?"_

The screens turned to static.

The warning sirens blared.

The citizens fled in terror.

The Grimm and White Fang descended through the streets and sky of Vale, drawn to the swell of fear they sensed...

And Alfred F. Jones woke up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A majority of Cinder's dialogue is from RWBY Volume 3 Chapter 9: PvP (I don't own it). And before you ask, yes Cinder said 'homicide'. No, it is not a mistake. She's lying to sow more shock and horror.


	19. Tremor

America's body hurt.

Well, that was a bit of an understatement.

To be more accurate, his body felt like it was on  _fire_.

The pain of it took his breath away, and that lack of air was the only reason he did not scream as he was thrust back into the world of the living. Instead he could only flinch, writhing slightly as the pain condensed to a dull ache in his stomach, chest, and esophagus. He heard loud voices, one closer to the rest, and slowly comprehended that the person was telling him to keep still. He did his best, locking his muscles, and winced as something was pulled from his aching throat.

America breathed in deeply and cringed as cool, sterilized air burned his nose. He opened his eyes, squeezing them shut just as quickly, before parting them just a slit to allow his pupils time to adjust to the bright light. The room came into focus and the nation had to smile at the four worried faces hovering over him.

"Hey." He croaked, sounding like he had come back from the dead.

If his suspicions were right, that statement might not be far from the truth. Memory returned with a click and America sat bolt upright, flinching and pressing a hand against his abdomen where Yang had shot him. The wound was gone but echoes of it still remained, sending bolts of agony through his veins. Except… it might not be from his injury at all. The pain was because of other people.

_Vale is under attack._

The swarm of emotions that bloomed in his chest nearly sent America back into unconsciousness but he persevered, pushing the less important issues aside for now.

Vale— the city— was being attacked. The enemy— both Grimm, human, and Faunus— were here.

_Are they after Amber?_

It could be that Cinder was unaware of the injured nation's location, but that could soon change. Or the attack could be all a part of her master plan to get to Vale. Regardless, America needed to get moving. He could feel his people's terror, feel their shock, feel their deaths, and  _he had to stop it._

America barely registered the buzz of Italy's voice as he turned off the monitors that had been attached to him— No point in summoning doctors that would just be a hindrance. He planted his bare feet on the cold tile, pushing himself into a standing position. His vision doubled and he would have fallen if not for Prussia's diving save. The white-haired nation held him carefully by the arms.

"Relax." Prussia urged him. "Do not push yourself. We are safe here."

Didn't they know what was happening? The Grimm were invading the city. They needed to fight.

"Beacon… Have to get to Beacon…" America tried to explain, the words barely escaping his strained throat.

Germany took hold of his other arm. "You are not going anywhere except to an evacuation if they call for it. Vale is being attacked by Grimm—"

"I  _know_." America interrupted, voice regaining its strength. "That's why I need to get to Beacon. I can save everyone."

Germany sighed. "Am— Alfred, I know you want to be a hero—"

" _For the love of God_ , that has  _nothing_  to do with it!" America snapped. "People are  _dying!_  I have to help."

If he listened, he could hear the screams amongst the sirens, accompanied by the growls of approaching Grimm. Were they already getting that close or was his awareness heightened by Vale?

"You were recently injured. Arthur and Matthew would not want you rushing into battle. And…" Germany hesitated and shifted uncomfortably. "…this is not our home, Alfred."

America yanked his arms free of their holds. " _I don't care_. I'm still going to help. You guys may not have a connection to this place but I do. I'm going. You can stay or evacuate or whatever."

He looked around and was pleased to see Cobalt Striker leaning against the wall. Before he could pick it up, a pile of clothes was shoved into his line of sight. He lifted his gaze to who held them.

Japan looked at him solemnly. "I think it would be best if you were properly dressed. If you wear that—" He nodded at the flimsy hospital gown. "— people will try to take you back here."

America smiled at his friend's vague show of support and took the clothes. "Thanks."

Not caring about privacy, America stripped out of the hospital gown. He quickly put on his blue t-shirt, jeans and sneakers, pulling on the jacket and grabbing Cobalt Striker. Japan lingered at his side, one hand on his katana. Italy helpfully held out the twin's Scroll for him but America shook his head.

"You keep that." he said.

Out of all of them, Italy would be the one least likely to be fighting and could actually answer if someone tried to contact them. Oblivious to his reasoning, the Italian happily pocketed the device.

"Since Alfred-kun is awake we should try to find the others." Japan said, facing the other three nations. "Arthur, Matthew, Francis, and Ivan were on their way to Beacon."

"They're probably still there." Germany said darkly.

"Do you think the Grimm have gotten there yet?" Italy asked fearfully.

"They're everywhere." America growled. "We  _need_  to get to Beacon."

They did not ask how he knew that, though Germany's eyes did narrow suspiciously.

"Kesesese. Good thing I brought  _this_  with me." Prussia grinned, hefting his bayonet-fitted sniper rifle.

Italy still looked terrified.

Germany put a hand on his arm. "Stay near me and you'll be fine."

The Italian relaxed. "A-Alright."

The doctors and nurses did not spare them a second glance as they headed outside. None of them were 'escaped patients' as far as they could tell, and the staff was already swamped dealing with injured civilians. The sight of each wounded person made the anger igniting in America's chest burn stronger.

_Dammit. If Cinder is responsible for this, I'll make sure she'll pay. And if I can't do that, I'll at least make sure her plan fails. She won't make Vale fall— the nation or the city. I swear it._

The streets outside were still peaceful but America knew that would not last long. Grimm were being dropped from airships onto the city, and soon they would make it here. He could only hope that the Huntsmen he had spotted at the entrance to the hospital would keep the people inside safe.

_I have to get to Amber. Maybe if I get the rest of her Aura, we can stop this._

The twin walked over to the first abandoned car he could see and broke the window. He ducked beneath the wheel and began prodding the different wires. Miraculously, the vehicle started with a low roar within a couple seconds.

"Wow, you're good at that." Italy complimented.

America was unsure whether he should feel insulted or not. "…Thanks?"

He shook himself, sitting in the passenger's seat. Japan realized what he intended first and grimaced, buckling himself in the back seat. The stoic nation clung to the leather, knuckles already white. Italy watched Germany and Prussia take the last two seats in the back and slowly sat in the driver's spot, puzzled. He put his hands on the wheel thoughtfully, almost like he was taking in the thrum of the engine.

America's blue eyes hardened. "Italy,  _drive_."

The Italian grinned and stepped on the gas.

XXXXXXX

Weiss and Blake could not stop staring. They stood in the middle of the Fairgrounds, watching silently as Atlesian Knights fought, people ran, and Grimm gave chase to their fleeing prey. The Faunus could not move, no matter how much her mind begged her to do something.

It was like she had been turned to stone, her muscles locking and no emotions except horror and shock making it past the shell of rock that surrounded her. Weiss was in similar straits, staring at the carnage with wide blue eyes that made her look much younger than her seventeen years.

The ringing of her Scroll nearly made Blake jump out of her skin and she fumbled with the device, eager to hear from someone. Their attempts to call Ruby, Yang, or anyone from Team JNPR had all been failures, leaving them to fear something terrible had happened to their other friends at the stadium.

_Penny…_

Blake struggled to keep a lump from rising in her throat even as she spotted the caller's id and answered the Scroll. "Matthew!"

" _Blake. Are you okay?"_  he asked urgently.

"Weiss and I are…" Blake looked at the doomed Fairgrounds. "…unhurt. We're in the Fairgrounds. Have you heard from Yang or Ruby? We haven't been able to contact them."

" _I haven't been able to reach Arthur either. He probably lost his Scroll. I don't know about Ruby."_ He reported, audibly unhappy about that fact.  _"But Yang is okay. I'm with her at the station. I'm trying to get the police to let her out."_

Some of Blake's despair vanished at the meaning behind his words. "You believe she's innocent." She breathed.

" _Yes."_ He said shortly.  _"Listen, don't trust Emerald or her team."_

Of all the things Blake expected him to say, it was certainly not that. "What? Why?"

" _I think she's the one who made Yang hallu—"_

Gunshots, growls, and shouts came through the Scroll, which began to crackle like it was losing its connection.

"Matt!" Blake cried, worried.

" _I'm fine."_  He grunted.  _"Try to meet us at the docks near the courtyard. Stay safe!"_

With that, he hung up. More Grimm ran by and a few Nevermore flew through the dark sky. Blake still could not find the ability to move, staring at the blank Scroll sorrowfully. So many people were fleeing, hiding, screaming,  _dying_ … People she was supposed to protect.

Fear and confusion washed away, replaced by determination.

"Blake? What are we going to do?" Weiss asked.

"We're going to the docks and doing our job." Blake stated.

She summoned her weapon and— her own courage returning— Weiss did the same.

XXXXXXX

As people screamed and fled around him, England was absolutely calm. Like the eye of a hurricane he stood stoically amidst the chaos and battle, unflinching as death was wrought around him. His fellow nations were similarly unmoving, though France's stillness was more due to fear while Russia's was due to something akin to curiosity.

A large bird Grimm— a Nevermore— sensed the Frenchman's terror and dove at him, screeching, but England blasted it through the head with his staff. Its body hit the ground in front of them and slowly disintegrated. France flinched, recoiling, but England remained calm.

"We need to find the others." He said flatly and walked boldly out into the open.

France hurried to follow while Russia ambled after them at an unbothered pace, calmly bashing any Grimm stupid enough to approach with his metal pipe. For once, England appreciated the scary nation's creepy smile and rather bored reaction when faced with demons. France would not be much use until he got over his shock and terror— if the Frog ever did— and England was dangerously close to losing his cool.

He was not about to fall to fear. Far from it. Instead he was in danger of losing his temper and blindly attacking any fool that came near.

Of course this had to happen now. Of course America had to get injured when they were supposed to leave this damned world. And now England and his frien—  _allies_  were separated in a city under attack, where they could bloody well be dragged off by monsters.

England had meant it when he told America he did not want any of them dying for the world that hurt them, yet here they were fighting for the God-forsaken place. Perhaps it was selfish and bigoted— in truth, it truly was— but England  _hated_  this world and everything it represented, so pardon him for not wanting to save it.

In fact, he was  _not_  trying to save it as he threw five Grimm and three masked men into the wall with enough force to kill the lot of them. England only had one purpose as he and Russia— and France, who had  _finally_  taken out his gun and joined them— massacred any enemy in front of them. He had to find America and Canada and get them to safety. He was not about to lose his brothers to this world's war, a war they were forcibly drafted into when they were captured.

With that in mind, England raised his wooden staff. On Earth, England would rather rely on a pistol than something flashy, but this was  _not_  Earth. This was Remnant, where— if his senses were not mistaken— magic was literally in the air. He had sensed it as soon as he arrived on this world, and even before that he knew a simple gun would be an ill-advised weapon to bring.

When he heard of the monsters on Remnant, he knew he needed to be prepared. And what better tool to fight demons with than a magic staff? England drew on the vague power he could feel around him and blasted the Grimm, the beam so similar to the effect caused by Dust that none but experts would be able to tell the difference.

The force of the spell made the ground shudder and jump. Windows shattered and a few of the less stable buildings crumbled, collapsing into mortar and dust. His enemies stood no chance against the rage-fueled power he wielded and succumbed in an instant, turning to ash. England did not care about the collateral damage. Nothing would stop him from finding his family.

_Unknown to England, far below the school the tremors reached a vault holding a humming metal machine, making it shake as bits of plaster fell from the ceiling and onto the pods. Already damaged from Canada's attack and unsuited for such stress, the metal was unable to withstand the pressure and pieces began to shift and crack…_

XXXXXXX

The Grimm were in Beacon.

America could hardly believe his eyes but it was an undeniable truth. He could see the damaged buildings, the fleeing students and civilians, the Grimm that crawled over the property like deadly ants. There were so many. He did not let that fact dishearten him.

Instead he leapt out of the car before it could fully stop, dashing at the closest Creep with his bat raised. With a roar he beheaded the monster, twisting to impale a Beowolf through the chest and shooting two smaller Nevermores from the sky.

America stabbed another Creep and yanked his bayonet free, barely flinching as Prussia shot a third Nevermore, sending it crashing to the ground before it could swoop down on him. He had to wonder if the Grimm kept coming for him because he was pissed. The Grimm were in his city. They were in his school. They were threatening his friends. And if they thought he'd let that go…

America beheaded a Beowolf without looking, not bothering to hold back his strength. If the others noticed his rage they did not mention it. Germany and Prussia were ready to fight while Italy finally gathered the courage to creep out of hiding. He spotted a locker stuck in the ground and walked over to it, peering inside. He brightened.

"There's a weapon in here!" Italy reported. "Maybe I can get it."

"Be careful." America cautioned. "If you put in a certain combination—"

On cue, a low roar sounded and the locker launched into the air with Italy in tow. His scream of fright faded slowly as he shot into the sky, heading in the direction of the airship circling the city.

"Italy!" Germany shouted, letting loose a low string of curses in his native tongue.

The sound of cocking weapons made them turn, and they saw Atlesian Knights pointing weapons at them. Japan, Prussia, and Germany froze in confusion. America did not.

"It's Order 66!" he yelled.

He tackled Germany to the ground and the robots' shots went over their heads. Luckily they had not yet processed that adjusting their aim would make them hit their enemies, but the nations did not give them time to. Germany rose and punched a robot so hard its head popped off, while America shot another and Prussia and Japan stabbed two in the face. They crackled and collapsed to the ground, red-tinted masks going dark.

America quickly rolled one over with his foot, opening its chest compartment and studying it. He carefully touched the fried electronics and saw a flicker of blue light that looked like a… cursive W? Then it was gone, and the broken circuits revealed nothing more.

The twin withheld a frustrated curse. If he had more time he might be able to find something but this was a  _battle_. There  _was_  no time. If he had to make an educated guess, some type of virus must be involved unless Atlas had  _ordered_  the robots to turn on the people of Vale…

_No. They wouldn't. They couldn't. But…_  His thoughts flashed back to Westwind.  _This isn't the first time they've slaughtered my people._

Furious blue eyes rose to the last Atlesian airship in the sky— where Italy had flown— and he scowled. Without a word, America stood and walked purposely towards one of the smaller airships hovering nearby. It opened up, revealing Grimm, but the nation launched himself at the Ursas, ripping them apart. He grabbed the White Fang driver and yanked him out of his seat, throwing him onto the ground and knocking him out with a harsh kick to the head.

"Take this to find Italy." He commanded Germany. "And if you can, get control of that airship or destroy it. I think the kill-all-humans order is coming from there."

Germany hesitated.

Shots hit the area around the nations and they ducked. America shoved Germany into the airship and he and Prussia returned fire, terminating the Knights. They fell to the ground with metallic thuds.

"We'll be okay. You and Japan go after him." Prussia told his brother firmly.

Germany's expression hardened. " _Danke_."

He and Japan entered the vessel and America and Prussia watched them fly off. The blue-eyed nation waited for the airship to get out of sight before turning away, walking towards the school.

"We need to find Ozpin."

Prussia did not question him, instead running at his side as they went deeper into the Grimm-infested school.

XXXXXXX

Using her glyphs, Weiss launched herself at the rogue Atlesian Knights, slashing them to pieces before they could retaliate. Blake fought off the White Fang with similar speed, leaving fallen bodies in her wake. The Heiress briefly wondered if the Faunus knew some of them but pushed such thoughts aside. Blake needed her to focus. Together, they turned to the next group of foes— including some Grimm— only for a flash of green light to send their targets flying.

Arthur Kirkland came onto the scene like a force of nature, throwing enemies out of his path with a tranquil rage so potent it made Weiss's skin crawl. Green eyes spotted the two members of Team RWBY and his gaze became as warm as a glacier. He approached, strides long and firm much like a prince walking through a palace. Or a General walking through a warzone.

"Have you seen Matthew?" he demanded.

Weiss internally bristled at the blunt question but acknowledged now was not the time for pleasantries. "We talked to him on our Scrolls. He said he's heading to the docks."  _Hopefully with Yang,_  she kept to herself.

Arthur's frown deepened. "He hasn't been answering my calls."

"He is likely busy fighting, Arthur." Francis assured him.

Rather than calm him, his words made Arthur look absolutely livid. "Of  _course_  he is. Bloody war…"

Weiss spotted more Grimm falling from airships and was actually glad for their presence so she would not have to respond. She prepared herself, gripping Myrtenaster. Before she could attack, Arthur whirled on the approaching creatures, blasting them to smoke with bright green light.

_Is that his Semblance?!_  Weiss thought, shocked.  _It can't be Dust. It's too strong._

She shook herself, darting forward and impaling an Ursa. Blake, Ivan, and Francis joined the fight as well, though it was obvious the flirtatious man was not as ready for combat. A Beowolf lunged for him and he stumbled back, eyed wide, only for Blake to stab it before it could reach him. The Grimm slumped and Francis smiled.

" _Merci, chaton._ "

Blake rolled her eyes, tensing as she saw an Alpha running off. Weiss saw another group of Grimm headed in the opposite direction and mentally cursed, guessing her teammate's thoughts.

"Be careful." She said shortly and watched Blake pursue the Alpha.

To her surprise, Francis followed. Ivan made to go after them but Arthur stopped him.

"They'll be fine. We need to take care of  _those_." He gestured in the distance, where Weiss could see out-of-control Paladins advancing.

Ivan looked ecstatic. "This will be very fun."

Despite the slight bloodlust in his tone, Weiss felt oddly safe. Somehow she knew these two would have her back. They were Alfred's brother and friend, which meant they were good people. Besides, why else would they be fighting? Gathering her resolve, she leapt back into battle.

XXXXXXX

The people's fear was mounting. America could feel it so clearly it nearly took his breath away. He could feel a man's desperation as he waved his hands, hoping someone would see him and rescue him from Grimm. He could feel a woman's despair as her partner was slain before her eyes. He could feel a student's terror as he was carried off by a Nevermore—

He pushed it to the back of his mind, focusing completely on his goal. He could see the bottom of the tower now and a group of students defending the area around it.

…Was that Team JNPR?

America called out to the closest one he could see. "Jaune!"

The knight turned, blue eyes lighting up. "Alfred!"

America landed at his side and together they dispatched of the Grimm around them. Once the last Ursa fell— for the moment— the knight beamed at the twin.

"You're awake. Are you okay? Should you be fighting?" His joy quickly turned to concern.

"I'm fine. The attack woke me up." America said truthfully. "Where's Mattie? The others? Team RWBY?"

Before Jaune could reply, a Deathstalker rose up behind him. The knight froze like a deer in the headlights but Prussia dove past the teen, stabbing it in the eye. It screeched and staggered around, trying to snap at the nation with its pincers and Prussia laughed, avoiding its claws and stabbing it again. The scorpion like creature crumpled but not before it smacked him with its tail, sending the nation flying. America winced as he landed, hurrying to his side, but Prussia was already up, grinning from ear to ear.

"I am so awesome! Oh, how I missed battles like this!" he crowed.

America shook his head wryly. "You need to be more careful." he chided.

Prussia laughed. "Nonsense. The awesome me has been in worse skirmishes than this and I have always prevailed. It will take more than a few puppies to harm—"

Prussia flinched and blood trickled down his chin. America heard Jaune inhale sharply but the red-eyed nation simply wiped the crimson droplets away.

"Not to worry. The awesome me just bit his tongue." Prussia assured him. "This always happens."

Jaune's expression twisted. America could not tell if he was struggling not to show something or was extremely constipated. "R-Right."

The ground shuddered.

America flinched, curling up as pain lanced through his stomach. Through blurry vision he saw Prussia catch himself on his gun as another tremor shook the earth. With it, another stab of agony tore through America, nearly sending him to the ground. Noticing his distress, Jaune caught the twin's arm.

"Are you okay? Where does it hurt?"

The pain grew sharper and America could not find the breath to answer. A third shudder— stronger and more poignant than ever before— tore through him, and his vision went white. A memory that was not his own crept into his consciousness and ice-water washed through his veins.

"No…" America whispered, looking in the direction of Mount Glenn.

One more tremor struck the earth, longer and stronger than any of those before… and the mountain exploded, letting its prisoner free.

A dragon.

It was a freaking  _dragon_.

The Grimm Dragon screeched, heard even from miles away, and although he could not yet see it, America could  _feel_ it approach, dripping sludge that created hundreds of new Grimm. He hardly noticed Prussia leave his side, rushing after someone or something, while Jaune half-dragged his unresponsive body towards the other students and the protection they could offer. He could barely think or breath, his pain doubling as Vale's people realized what was coming, drowning him in their terror.

But among that terror rose determination and courage. America clung to it and he returned to his body to find Pyrrha and Jaune looking at him worriedly.

"I'm fine." He rasped, straightening.

"You shouldn't be fighting." Pyrrha said sternly.

"What am I  _supposed_  to be doing then?" America shot back a little more harshly then he intended.

He steadied his grip on Cobalt Striker and saw the other students— Sun, Nora, Ren, and Neptune— do the same. More and more Grimm were coming. More and more White Fang came with them. More and more robots were attacking. More and more people needed help—

Movement in the doorway caught his eye. Ozpin stood there, looking directly at America with a solemn expression. The twin instantly knew what he wanted and why. It was time.

His ribs seemed to constrict around his heart and lungs but he could not say no or run away. He had to do this. Swallowing hard, America slowly walked towards the Headmaster and his fate.

"Where is he going?" he heard Nora ask.

"We'll find out. You two stay here and keep fighting." Jaune ordered.

The knight's sneaker-clad steps and Pyrrha's high-heeled clicks joined him and America's chest felt just a little lighter. They were such good people and great friends. He hoped he would remember them both when this was over.

XXXXXXX

Not that far away on a tall building, Cinder curiously watched the three students— the champion, the knight, and the hero— follow Ozpin into the tower. The woman saw the Headmaster's urgency and easily guessed the reason for his summoning of the three. The fool. Did he really think three children would be able to stop her? Still, if her hunch was correct— and of course it was— it seemed she would not need to painstakingly hunt down Vale after all.

Amber eyes blinked and flashed green.


	20. Crash and Burn

Blake ran after the Alpha, mindful to avoid the crumbled stones in her path. She heard footsteps following her and rolled her eyes, bow twitching in annoyance.

"I don't need your help, Francis." She told her pursuer sharply.

He quickened his pace and ran at her side, shooting her a dazzling smile. "Ah, but it would be irresponsible for me to allow you to fight by yourself."

Blake's retort was cut off as the Alpha sprang onto the side of a building, clambering upward and sending bits of glass and mortar down to the ground. Before the Faunus could attack, a familiar shout caught her attention. Yellow eyes snapped to the inside of the building in time to see  _Adam Taurus_  throw a student's limp body to the floor. Blake's skin went cold, icy terror ripping through her veins.

"No..." she whispered.

Adam smirked. "Hello, my  _darling_."

Blake went white and slowly began backing away. Francis noticed and backed up as well, eyes darting nervously between her and Adam as his hand tightened on his gun.

" _Chaton_? Who is this?" he asked cautiously.

Her throat closed and she could not reply to tell him, to  _warn_  him. Adam kept his masked gaze on her, glare burning through the Grimm-like visor with an intensity that made her skin crawl.

"Running away again?" he asked mockingly. "Is that what you've become, my love? A  _coward_?"

"Do not call a lady that!" Francis spat.

Adam eyed him coldly but something in his posture changed from angry to… shocked? "You're…" he trailed off, and gave a cold grin. "Well, isn't  _this_  interesting. I've never met any of you face to face. So which one are you? I can't tell."

Blake glanced at Francis, who looked as confused as she felt. Adam shifted their priorities by slamming his foot down on a student he had pinned beneath him, who screamed. Blake launched herself forward as his sword raised, blocking the killing blow and forcing them both away from the helpless student.

Francis rushed to the boy's side, dragging him further away from the two. It appeared the student could not stand for he did not get up on his own, instead forcing the man to pull his limp frame along the floor. Blake glared at Adam, fear overcome by fury at how far her former friend had fallen.

"I'm not running." She claimed.

"You will be." Adam said darkly.

He kicked her in the stomach, sending her falling to the floor. A Creep ran at her but Adam shot it before it could attack. Its body slid to a halt beside her. The masked Faunus's hate-filled gaze landed on Francis.

"And  _you_ will be coming with me."

XXXXXXX

England gritted his teeth and slammed his staff down on another robot's head, making the metal skull crack. He lifted the Atlesian Knight in a green glow and threw it at another group, watching in satisfaction as the whole lot exploded. The hair on the nation's nape stood up and he stepped aside, barely avoiding a Griffon's beak. Russia's pipe took it down with a smack, and the bigger nation casually put his weapon over his shoulder, still smiling.

"I have saved you again, Arthur. How will you repay me? Become one with—"

England blasted the large Beowolf creeping up on him to smoke. "No, I will not become one with you." He hissed, too annoyed to feel intimidated. "We're even anyway."

Russia looked disappointed. He perked up as a Paladin rushed at them, only to be smacked aside into a wall. England cursed and raised his staff but the Paladin struck him as well, sending him crashing through a window. The nation hit the floor hard, cringing as his skeleton bent awkwardly as it tried to adjust to being turned into a pancake, but thankfully the injuries from the strike was neither serious nor fatal. It still  _hurt like Hell_  though.

_Bollocks._

As England pushed himself up he could already feel himself healing, with his ankle— sprained if he was not mistaken— taking the longest to mend. He hobbled out into the courtyard and nearly collapsed, but tan arms caught him.

"You okay, man?" the blond-haired teen helping him asked.

His voice and appearance reminded England of America, which did nothing to help the nation's mood. "I'm fine." He snapped. "Get off."

The boy backed off, hands raised. England spotted movement and noted the monkey tail swishing at his back. He was a Faunus then. That must be why England felt something was odd about him.

"Sorry. Just trying to help. I'm Sun by the way." He said. Blue eyes flicked past England and he gave an impressed whistle. "Looks like Velvet and Weiss are taking care of the one that smacked you."

England looked in time to see Weiss summon a giant white arm with an even bigger sword, which took down the Paladin in one hit. England studied the glyph she used curiously, comparing it to his own magic, but was distracted from his scrutiny by the thudding of large metallic feet.

More Paladins were coming.

"Oh, you've got to be  _kidding me!_ " Sun exclaimed.

The nation silently agreed.

XXXXXXX

Ruby cried out as she was kicked by Neo. She desperately dug her scythe into the airship to keep from flying off. Below her, Griffons flew by in swarms, ignoring the girl hanging over them for now. She heard the scraping of a sword on metal as Neo and Roman approached and the pink-and-brown-haired girl pointed her weapon at Ruby. A Griffon snapped at the silver-eyed girl but she kicked it away.

"…You know the old saying." Roman was monologuing. "If you can't beat them—"

A blur hit Neo, sending her sprawling, and a startled Roman stepped back, cane raised and pointing at… Kiku? The black-haired man did not look angry, but there was a dark intensity in his posture as he locked his katana with Neo's umbrella. Roman cursed, aiming at Kiku's back, but was forced to duck to the side as bullets sprayed the area he had just been standing in.

Ludwig strode into view, stern and unbothered by the Grimm flying around or the movement of the airship. Feliciano walked less confidently behind him, but the moment he spotted Ruby he dashed to her side, helping her onto the ship.

"Are you okay?" he asked quickly.

She nodded.

"Who the hell are you?" Roman demanded.

"Enemies of yours." Ludwig said coldly.

Ruby had to admit it was satisfying to see him punch Roman directly in the face. The criminal cursed, raising his weapon, but Ludwig did not let up, sweeping Roman's legs from under him and putting him in a chokehold.

Deciding the intimidating man could handle Roman, she turned to Neo, to see her and Kiku sword-fighting at high speeds. The black-haired man was not even giving her time to open her umbrella, and Ruby could see her jaw clenching with anger. Kiku noticed as well.

"You are growing frustrated." Kiku noted calmly. "Your fighting-style relies on speed and misdirection but when faced with an equally quick, skilled, and agile opponent your tactics are less effective."

He struck her umbrella aside and bashed her in the chin with his elbow, making her stagger. She caught her footing and glared, but Ruby could see the slight caution in her eyes. It was a far cry from her former smirk and cockiness. Neo shattered, appearing behind Kiku, but he turned, catching her arm and throwing her. She hit the airship and rolled before stumbling to her feet with a glare.

"I can sense your presence. Your illusions won't work on me." Kiku told her steadily.

Neo bared her teeth in a snarl.

_We're winning_ , Ruby thought, relieved.  _We can get the ship back. We have to hurry!_

Using her Semblance, she shot at Neo, making her and Kiku spring away from each other. Ruby grinned at her latest fighting partner, but her smile faltered when the man eyed her sternly.

"Ruby, please let me handle this." Kiku warned.

Frustration bubbled in her chest. Did he think she would just stand around and watch him fight? No way. "This is my fight too!"

Ruby dashed in close, swiping at Neo, who easily parried her blow. She saw the smirk was back and her eyes narrowed.

_I'll show you what a Huntress can do._

She swung at Neo again, who dodged, barely noticing when her move forced Kiku to divert his own attack to avoid striking her. The man was a good fighter but as far as Ruby knew, he was not a Huntsman. She was. That meant she was supposed to fight for him, not the other way around.

So Ruby determinedly fought on, wary of the hook of Neo's umbrella and possible illusions. She knew her weapon was not the best for one on one close combat but she had to push past her weaknesses. She had to win and save the day.

Neo's blade shot out and Kiku forced his way in front of Ruby, blocking the strike before it could stab her in the abdomen. He turned to look at her and the girl flinched, startled by the anger brewing in his dark eyes.

"You are not best suited for this battle. Let me handle it." He commanded.

It was shocking to see the normally quiet and polite man being so firm. Why was he being so overprotective? Did Kiku think she was weak or incompetent? Did he think she was too young? Did he see her as a  _child_?

The frustration bubbling in Ruby's chest became anger. "I can do this!"

She shoved past Kiku, ignoring his protests, and attacked Neo, only for the girl to shatter like glass.

On instinct, Ruby turned, prepared for the predictable stab from behind. Except it was not a stab this time, but an overhead slash, one she could not lift her scythe quick enough to block. Ruby flinched on instinct.

The tip of Neo's sword slashed through her left eye.

At first, Ruby felt nothing. Then pain ripped through the left side of her face and she screamed, clutching her eye and crumpling to the floor. Everything on that side was dark— not a single ounce of light coming through— and Ruby could not tell whether it was because her eyelid was closed or something else.

All she knew was that it hurt.

It hurt so badly.

She heard Kiku give a shout and opened her blurry right eye. The man was over her, straining, and she realized he had stopped Neo's killing blow. He had been forced to protect her. Ruby's good eye blinked lethargically as she watched Neo gleefully take stabs at her instead of Kiku, forcing the man to stay on the defensive again and again.

A bright spot of pink caught the girl's attention and she eyed the button curiously. With a click, an idea formed in her struggling mind. She could still help. She just needed to time it right…

Kiku and Neo's blades locked together, the man stoically furious and the girl smirking. Ruby watched Kiku's muscles bunch and pushed herself upward, reaching out. She pressed the button just as Kiku gave Neo a shove, sending her towards the edge. Anyone who opened an umbrella in high winds could say how that went.

With a small gasp, Neo flew off the ship, floating away.

" _Neo!_ "

Roman struck Ludwig in the jaw with his head, making the blond-haired man release him, and ran at Kiku in a blind rage. Before he could reach the man, Feliciano rammed into the criminal, sending them both teetering at the edge of the ship.

Through blurry vision, Ruby watched Roman's arms flail… and then he fell. For a heart-stopping second, Ruby thought Feliciano would suffer the same fate, but Kiku dove for his friend in the nick of time and pulled him to safety.

Ruby felt Ludwig lift her in his arms, only for a Griffon landed in front of them, screeching. Kiku jumped at it, kicking it into the glass window of the airship slightly behind them. Flames sprouted from the vessel and it tilted.

"Quickly, into the ship." Ludwig ordered.

Barely conscious, Ruby winced as she was laid down in the smaller airship. She blinked her good eye slowly, and winced as Ludwig took off his coat and pressed it against the wound. A low rumble made her turn her head and she watched Ironwood's airship explode in the distance.

"Ruby." Her eye flicked to Kiku, who looked back at her sorrowfully. "You are going to be alright."

She thought she heard guilt in his voice, almost perfectly hidden by his seemingly stoic demeanor. But Ruby knew better. She knew he felt guilty because she kind of did too. In hindsight, she should have listened to Kiku and stayed out of the fight. But it was too late for regrets. She'd gotten the ship out of enemy hands, even if it was in no one's hands at all anymore.

"I know. We did it though. We won." Ruby's smile was bright despite her wound. "I'm glad."

_Even if Yang and Uncle Qrow are going to be super angry at me…_

Her tenacious grip on consciousness failed and she passed out.

XXXXXXX

Canada did not question it when the robots around him and Yang suddenly collapsed. In fact, he mentally thanked whoever had deactivated them and impaled the closest Grimm, not stopping for a second. Yang was equally driven and unstoppable, both siblings determined to find their families amongst the chaos.

The nation was just glad he had managed to convince the police to let the Huntress in training go. It had probably helped that Grimm had chosen to attack the precinct and force them to release her anyway to fight. Now the two siblings were in Beacon, dashing through rubble, fires, and what could accurately be described as 'Hell' to reunite with their families.

Yang punched a Beowolf through a window, eyes red and hair flaming. "When I find Ruby, I am going to smother her with hugs." She proclaimed in a dark snarl. "I am going to be that hovering, overprotective, irritating sibling for  _months_  and  _never_  let her out of my sight again. How  _hard_  is it to answer a Scroll,  _huh?!_ "

The girl furiously sent an Ursa soaring into the stratosphere. Canada refrained from mentioning that Ruby could be in the middle of a battle and unable to answer her Scroll. Saying that would only make Yang even more furious and worried. He understood her fear, however.

America had not been at the hospital when the two went to retrieve him and bring him someplace safer. The other nations that had been with him were not either, and a nurse had mentioned someone who looked like Canada walking out of the hospital earlier with four other men matching Prussia, Germany, Italy, and Japan's descriptions. Apparently his brother had woken up and gone out to fight.

_I wonder if it's because of Vale._

Canada viciously beheaded a Creep with his bladed hockey stick. He shot a Beowolf off the side of a building and spotted a Paladin rushing through the grounds, heading towards a group of students— and England. Yang swore and took off running, but before they could approach, the robot sparked and collapsed.

"That went better than expected." Sun commented to England.

"Weiss!" Yang called her friend's name.

The girl waved vaguely, hunched over her sword and breathing heavily. She looked exhausted, and many of the other students did not look much better. Canada stopped beside England, seeing the slight pain in the nation's face immediately. England shot him a warning glare before he could mention it. Evidently, he spotted Yang and his green eyes narrowed dangerously.

"She's okay." Canada said hurriedly. "She was tricked by a girl with a hallucination Semblance."

England looked unconvinced but said nothing, still focusing on catching his breath.

"A Paladin shoved him through a window." Sun informed Canada.

"I'm  _fine_." England snapped.

The violet-eyed nation winced reflexively but shook himself. "Of course. Where are the others?"

England shrugged angrily. "Ivan is here. The Frog went chasing after the Faunus girl. I do not know about anyone else."

"The awesome me does!"

The two looked up and saw Prussia running at them, looking positively exhilarated. He stopped in front of them, practically bouncing. "This battle has been absolutely awesome!"

"Where are the others?" England repeated Canada's earlier question, not in the mood for bragging.

Prussia huffed, crossing his arms. "Feliciano got stuck on a locker and flew off so Kiku and  _Bruder_  went after him. I was with Alfred on the grounds but I do not know where he is now."

Canada's stomach did a somersault as he recalled his— and Mantle's— retrieved memories. If America ran into Cinder… "I need to find him."

Coco overheard him. "You'll want to hurry. They might force us to evacuate soon."

England growled. "Then I suppose I should locate Francis, the idiot." His green glare focused on Yang, who stiffened but met his eyes steadily. "Let's go, girl."

He stormed off. After shooting Canada a bewildered look, Yang followed. The violet-eyed nation shook himself and looked to Prussia.

"Let's find Al."

XXXXXXX

"This could have been our day! Can't you see that?" Adam shouted.

"I never wanted this." Blake cried, struggling to get up. "I wanted equality. I wanted  _peace_."

She tried to shoot him but he caught her shots with Wilt. "What you want is  _impossible_."

He slammed the sword back into its sheath. Blake cried out as she was thrown back to the ground and he kicked Gambol Shroud away. She pushed herself up but Adam backhanded her, sending her to the floor. Blake withheld a sob, an urge which became harder as Francis— the well-meaning  _idiot_ — tried to help her again.

It was obvious the man was terrified and no match for Adam, but he had been trying to assist her anyway throughout their fight, attacking and distracting the White Fang member whenever he could. Blake wanted to scream at him to stop and  _run_  and save himself, but the look on Francis's face told her he wouldn't abandon her no matter how scared he was.

As a bullet whizzed by his head, Adam turned on Francis and grabbed the blond-haired man's gun, yanking it from his hand and gripping the human's throat. Francis choked, grasping frantically at the hand on his jugular, and the Faunus picked him up, slamming him into the concrete. Blake flinched as Francis gave a low, gasping scream. Adam sneered down at him.

"You're lucky I need you alive." He spat. "And as for  _you,_ Blake…" Adam crouched beside her. "I will make it my mission to destroy  _everything_  you love."

He made the vow with the anger of a betrayed god, the depths of his rage sending lances of icy fear through Blake's veins.

"Blake!"

The cat Faunus's head jerked to the side and she saw Yang punch a member of the White Fang, looking around and calling for her again. No no no no  _no_ , it could not be her partner. Her friend could not be here, should not be anywhere near her or Adam. Adam noticed Blake's terror and smirked.

"Starting with her." Adam growled.

He raised his sword over Blake and stabbed.

One second Blake was looking at Adam, the next Francis was over her, taking the blow. Blake felt the man jerk but remain silent as the blade stabbed him through the back, perhaps too shocked or filled with adrenaline to scream in pain. Or maybe he did not want Yang to hear and come running. Even when impaled, Francis found the strength to shove himself backwards along the sword, forcing Adam away from the fallen Faunus.

The action caused Wilt to rip free of his flesh, and when Francis tried to rise to defend her, instead he collapsed on top of her. Something warm dripped onto Blake's skin and with a jolt of horror she realized it was blood. But she swore his Aura never broke—

_Unless he never had Aura to begin with._

The horrific comprehension dawned just as Francis crumpled before her, breathing harsh and skin steadily paling as he reached faintly towards his wound. He  _never_  had Aura. He was not a Huntsman like Blake had mistakenly believed. He was just a man determined to protect her, a person— a  _Faunus_  he barely knew.

Blake tried to rise but Adam was back, and this time there was no one to stop him. She screamed as he stabbed her in the side with the sword that was the color of Francis's blood. Finally Yang turned, eyes going red.

"Get away from her!" she shouted.

Adam gave Blake a sly grin as he faced Yang, sheathing his sword.

"No…  _please_ …" Blake whispered, unable to speak loud enough to warn her partner.

Yang burst into flames with a roar, lunging for Adam, and he struck, energy bursting from his sword. Time seemed to slow and Blake saw her partner's arm separate from her body, the force of the blow making her spin as her eyes slipped closed and she fell to the ground with a thud. Blake's mind went blank, her thoughts becoming a jumbled scream of shock and grief, and she could only watch— frozen— as Adam advanced on her unconscious friend.

A wave of green light struck the bull Faunus, and he lurched back to his feet, teeth bared. Arthur walked towards him with the same murderous intent Adam had just displayed, the tranquil rage in his glowing green eyes turning the last bits of warm blood in Blake's veins to ice.

"Who are you…?" Adam's jaw clenched and his masked eyes locked with Blake's. "We'll have to continue this later. See you soon, my  _darling_."

He slashed the ground, causing dust and rubble to block their vision, and when it dispersed he was gone.

Arthur immediately dropped at Francis's side. "France, you  _idiot_! What did you  _do_?"

His voice cracked as he spoke and his hands fluttered uselessly before he pressed them over his friend's wound. His skin was ashen from blood loss and his eyes were closed. Only the slight rise and fall of Francis's chest told Blake he was still alive. Just like Yang, who lay on the floor nearby, her Aura keeping her wound from bleeding too badly.

_Francis doesn't have Aura. He's going to die._

Blake swallowed. "I-I—"

She froze under England's furious glower, which was made worse by the tears in his eyes. "I knew this was going to happen. I  _knew_  one of us would die for this Godforsaken world if we stayed here!" He did not appear to notice as the tears trickled down his cheeks. "Why couldn't you leave us  _out of your war!_ "

Blake flinched, quailing beneath his rage.

"Don't… blame… her…" Arthur looked down to see Francis was awake, breathing ragged as he struggled to speak to his friend. "Made… my… choice…"

Blake could not look at him. Not one, but two people had gotten hurt protecting her. How could she let this happen? She heard Francis mumble something in an odd language, the meaning of the words completely lost to her. Whatever it was, it calmed Arthur down and he gently picked up his friend.

"Get her." He said harshly, jerking his chin at Yang.

Unable to meet his rightfully furious gaze, Blake silently did as he demanded, hoisting Yang over her shoulder. She lowered her head to hide her face and ran after Arthur, carrying the people that had been injured because of her.

XXXXXXX

"This is hopeless!"

Canada cringed as Prussia gave an angry shout, emphasizing his words with a furious stab that impaled a Creep through the head. The nation glared at the fallen Grimm before snarling at the violet-eyed nation.

"Where  _are_  they?"

"I don't know." Canada said, keeping his calm despite the similar anger and desperation that wanted to grip him. He saw movement in the distance and mentally cursed. "Keep moving. More White Fang are coming."

"Let them come." Prussia growled.

Canada stopped him before he could reveal himself to the Faunus. "We're trying to find America, not start a fight. You're going to get hurt if you keep rushing into battle."

"Fighting is what the awesome me does." Prussia complained. "If you're so worried about it, how about you do that Aura thing you and America have?"

Canada hesitated. "Unlocking Aura will take some of my own. I don't know if I have enough."

He did not mention that the thought of awakening Prussia's Aura was unsettling. He had not magically forgotten that they were all nations from Earth, and some nations having Aura while others did not could lead to some bad situations…

_But Prussia isn't a full nation anymore._   _He won't go around trying to conquer other countries._   _Someone like Russia on the other hand…_

Prussia saw his indecision. "We both know that at this rate I'm going to be shot. I'm honestly surprised I have not gotten a bullet to the face yet."

Canada's resistance broke down and he sighed. "Fine. Come here."

Prussia obliged and the violet-eyed nation put his hand on his chest, recalling the chant. He knew that people liked to customize the phrases they used to unlock Aura but did not want to risk foregoing certain key words. Ironwood's chant— with minor modifications— would have to do.

" _For it is in passing that we achieve immortality. Through this, we become a paragon of strength and power to shield others from the weight of the world. Infinite in potential and unbound by fate, I release your soul, and for my family, protect thee._ "

There was a flash of purple light and Prussia grinned, pumping his fist. "I feel  _awesome_!"

He ran out of cover, attacking the unprepared White Fang with a laugh. As Canada caught his breath, leaning against the wall, he withheld a sigh.

_I am going to regret this, aren't I?_

XXXXXXX

Ozpin, Pyrrha, Jaune, and Alfred exited the elevator and ran down a dark, menacing hallway. To her, it looked like an ancient crypt, gloomy and haunting like hundreds of ghosts were watching her every move. The champion's confusion mounted with every step but it was Jaune who voiced the question they both were thinking.

"What is this place?"

Alfred did not meet their eyes. "It's… a vault."

"A vault? For…?" Pyrrha trailed off as they reached their destination, stepping back as she stared. "W-What?"

A strange machine was there, and inside it lay a brown-haired girl with scars on her face. She appeared to be asleep but Pyrrha's instincts told her that was not the case. Both Ozpin and Alfred looked unsurprised by the girl, and uneasiness settled in the champion's stomach. What would a school need a vault for? Who was the girl?  _What was going on?_

"Alfred? What  _is_  this?" Jaune gasped.

Alfred hesitated. "I—"

"Mister Jones. We need to hurry." Ozpin interrupted.

Alfred gulped visibly but nodded, laying in the empty pod next to the sleeping girl. Pyrrha saw he was visibly  _shaking_  and her unease tripled.

"Ms. Nikos, Mr. Arc, stand guard here." The Headmaster continued quickly before turning back to the machine.

Pyrrha and Jaune exchanged a confused, nervous glance, and the champion could see her turmoil reflected in his blue eyes. This was all so strange, and it made her wonder what else the Headmaster was hiding, but when Jaune nodded and turned towards the exit, Pyrrha did the same.

Behind them, Ozpin pressed a few buttons and cursed. "Blast! It's been damaged. It could fall apart if we…" His head snapped up. "Ms. Nikos!"

Pyrrha jumped. "Sir?"

"I need you to hold the machine together with your Semblance." Ozpin ordered.

Pyrrha hesitantly approached, studying the machine more thoroughly. Upon closer inspection, it looked like pieces of metal had shifted. She was no engineer but it looked like one good shake would make the machine fall to bits. She could help but…

Alfred had been  _shaking_. He was  _scared_  of… whatever they were going to do.

"Pyrrha."

Green eyes met sky blue.

"No matter what happens, don't get distracted, okay?" Alfred gave her a small smile. "I'll be fine."

Pyrrha could see the fear behind his smile and the uneasiness in his eyes. But he was going through with it anyway. He was being a hero and doing his duty… whatever that was. She would do the same.

"Okay." The champion agreed.

She carefully held the machine with her Semblance, focusing on keeping everything together as much as she could. Ozpin quickly pressed a few buttons and looked at Alfred.

"Are you ready?" he asked.

Why did he sound so uncertain? Pyrrha risked a glance at Alfred and saw him swallow, the slightest bit of terror lingering in his blue eyes. Eventually he nodded.

"Do it." Alfred whispered.

Ozpin took a breath. "Thank you, Mister Jones."

He pressed a button. The girl's pod rose like Alfred's and a low screeching sound came from the machine. Green light surrounded the girl and entered the pipes between her and Alfred's pod. Pyrrha watched it, unable to tear her gaze away from the hypnotic flow, the way it was moving almost reminding her of blood being drawn from a vein.

The light entered Alfred's pod, surrounding him, and he  _screamed_.

Pyrrha flinched but continued to hold the metal together with her Semblance even as her friend's continued shrieks brought tears to her eyes. She had to trust Ozpin. He and Alfred knew what was going on. She had to believe it was fine and that this was planned and the Headmaster was not murdering her friend—

"Alfred!" Jaune shouted behind her.

"Stay on your guard, Jaune!" Pyrrha shouted before he could leave his spot.

She dare not turn away to see if he listened or not, or perhaps she could not tear her gaze away from her writhing, screaming friend. His cries were growing softer— due to stubborn self-control and a desire to keep them from hearing his pain, or maybe simple weakness. Pyrrha prayed it was the former, not the latter. Because Alfred was  _not_ dying. He  _couldn't_  be dying. He was fine,  _everything_  was fine, it was all part of the plan. The green energy around Alfred was growing brighter as it grew dimmer around the girl. Pyrrha realized her eyes were opening and her stomach lurched. Was she conscious? Ozpin saw it too and shuddered once.

"I'm…" He forced himself to look up at her. "…so sorry."

" _STOP!_ "

Ozpin and Pyrrha turned in time to watch Jaune run forward with his shield raised, meeting an arrow head on… only for the projectile to go around the knight and his defense, hitting the brown-haired girl straight in the chest.

She gasped, eyes opening wide as the machines gave a warning scream. Down the hall, Cinder lowered her bow while the three Huntsmen looked on in shock. The machine behind them continued to wail and Pyrrha looked back, watching in horror as the girl went limp. The lights died with her. Alfred moved weakly in the other pod.

" _Amber_ …" Pyrrha heard him whisper.

There was a loud click like a sliding part and the green light on the girl's side went back to her unmoving frame while the rest sank into Alfred's skin. Before Pyrrha could ponder what that meant, the rest of the girl's Aura broke free of her limp body, hitting Cinder. Green light was accompanied by orange fire and she levitated above the ground, smirking victoriously as the air itself seemed to  _shriek_  around her. Jaune ran at the woman, sword raised.

"Stay back!" Ozpin shouted.

His warning came too late. Cinder blasted the knight away and he slid to a stop at the Headmaster's feet with a grunt. Pyrrha jerked towards him but stopped. She ripped the cover off of Alfred's pod and caught him as he fell out. Her friend did not move, head lolling onto her shoulder. Ignoring the bolt of fear in her chest, the champion dragged his limp body to Jaune and the two students stood defensively in front of their friend. Cinder watched them, amused.

"What did you hope to accomplish with this?" she mockingly asked Ozpin. "This power is not theirs."

She threw a blast of fire at the students… and it was forced away by a gust of wind. Pyrrha's gaze snapped to Alfred, who sweated profusely as he pointed a shaking hand at Cinder. He barely seemed conscious, but his glowing  _green_ eyes narrowed and he flicked his hand, sending the woman flying back.

Pyrrha did not have time to hope before whatever strength he had found left him, and the glow faded as quickly as it came, his eyes turning back to blue. Alfred swayed, forcing Jaune to catch him so he did not fall to the ground.

Cinder landed on her feet, amber eyes wide with shock but they quickly narrowed with utter  _fury_. She had an arrow notched and flying in an instant, aiming for Alfred's chest. Pyrrha's shield hit the arrow from the side, shattering it before it could reach her friend. Jaune planted himself directly in front of Alfred, their bodies nearly touching so another arrow could not get around him and reach the dazed twin. Cinder's face contorted into an ugly expression and she raised a flaming hand.

Pyrrha tensed and she gripped Miló, planting her foot in preparation to spring forward, but Ozpin stopped her with his arm.

"Take Alfred and get out of here." He commanded, brown eyes never leaving Cinder. "Find Glynda, Ironwood, Qrow. Bring them here right away. The tower cannot fall." He still did not look away from his enemy even as he gave one final order. "…Protect him with your life."

Any protests Pyrrha thought of voicing died in her throat at his words. She cautiously stepped away. Jaune half-carried Alfred while Pyrrha guarded their backs. Cinder ignored her fleeing targets, focused completely on the greatest threat in the room. As they fled to the end of the darkened hall, Pyrrha heard her speak.

"This whole time you had her  _right_  beneath our feet." The champion could hear the sneer in Cinder's voice. "She was right about you. Such  _arrogance_."

Pyrrha watched them clash, fire versus dark green light, and the elevator doors clicked shut.


	21. The Last Stand

The scene could not be more somber. The evacuation site was filled with the fleeing, the defeated, and the wounded, and so many among them were Weiss's friends. Ruby and Yang were unconscious, and Blake, Ren, and Nora were all too injured to stand. Weiss herself was out of energy, the remainder of her willpower drained away by the sight of her wounded partner.

She did not need a doctor to give an diagnosis to know that Ruby's left eye was gone. Just like Yang's arm. And Blake's composure. The Faunus was still sobbing silently next to her unmoving friend.

Weiss bit her lip, sitting uselessly beside her unconscious and mourning teammates. Zwei tried to cheer her up by nudging her with his nose and licking her, but even he could not bring the slightest smile to her face. Nor could she find the voice to try to comfort the quietly crying and apologizing Blake. Not when she wanted to cry herself.

It was just so…  _heavy_. They were alive but Weiss knew they had lost.

Even Nora was silent and withdrawn, solemn eyes flicking from injured friend to injured friend. Occasionally she would look over her shoulder before quickly turning away, shoulders hunching. Morbidly curious, Weiss looked with her and her heart became a lump of ice.

Arthur, Kiku, Ludwig, Ivan, and Feliciano were gathered around Francis, who lay limp and still on the ground, his chest barely moving. Weiss knew only bits and pieces of what had happened— having been chased away by an Arthur who looked distraught enough to actually attack her— but had pieced together that the flirtatious blond-haired man had taken a hit meant for Blake.

Seeing him so quiet and pale was almost as bad as seeing her team in such dire straits, reminding Weiss of how they could not protect themselves or anyone else in the end. It did not help that Arthur was holding Francis, carefully brushing his fingers through his long blond hair with an agonized expression on his face.

Weiss did not allow herself to break down. She did not let herself openly sob like Feliciano was currently doing. She had to be the calm one for the unconscious Ruby and Yang, the exhausted Ren and Nora, and the crying Blake. She had to be the one who was closest to normal. Because if she was not normal, then that would mean things were wrong.

Weiss was not that surprised when Sun sat next to her. The Faunus looked as tired as she felt, and did not dare speak to any of their grieving friends either. He was a rapscallion, and an idiot, and obnoxious, but in that moment Weiss had never been so glad to see him.

"How are you holding up?" he whispered.

"Well enough." She said evasively. "I'm not hurt." She exhaled softly and clung to her usual dismissive demeanor. "If you came for information, I don't have any. We still don't know where Jaune, Pyrrha, Alfred, Matthew, or Gilbert are."

"They'll be okay." Sun said optimistically. "They're strong."

" _We're 'strong' and look at_ _ **us.** "_ Weiss wanted to snap at him.

She held her tongue and looked back at Francis. It was better than looking at her own team and thinking about all the things she should have done differently. She should have gone to the stadium with Ruby. She should have stayed with Blake. She should have searched with Yang. She should have—

Weiss stood abruptly and walked over to Alfred's friends and family. She nearly froze when Arthur's head snapped up and he glared at her.

"What do you want?" he growled.

"I-I…"

Weiss scrambled to supply an answer. To say she was sorry? To scream that he wasn't the only one grieving? To burst into tears? Her gaze locked on the bloody bandage around Francis's chest and her breath caught. She remembered Blake staggering up to her with Yang over her shoulder, brokenly telling her about their injuries. Hadn't she mentioned Francis did not have Aura?

"I can help him." She blurted, voice growing more confident as she gained a purpose. "If I unlock his Aura it will heal some of the damage."

Arthur's eyes darkened but Feliciano responded before he could. "You can help?" He stood up and gripped her hands with his. "Please do it!"

His open eyes were a deep shade of brown but they reminded her so much of Ruby's it hurt. Weiss pushed said hurt aside and sat beside Francis, taking a breath. She may be low on Aura but she had more than enough for this. She could do something. She could  _help_. Under Arthur's watchful gaze, she put a hand on Francis's chest.

" _For it is in passing that we achieve immortality. Through this, we become a paragon of honor and hope to rise above our privilege. Infinite in aspiration and unbound by chains, I release your soul, and by my shoulder, give courage to thee._ "

There was a flash of deep blue light. Francis stirred, eyes fluttering slightly, but did not awaken. Weiss instantly noticed that his breathing was better. Arthur carefully peeked under the bandages and relaxed.

"It's smaller." He gently shifted the wrappings back into place, not looking at her. "…Thank you."

Weiss smiled through her exhaustion. "You're welcome."

She pretended to be content to sit with them when in reality she was not sure she could stand up again. Unlocking Francis's Aura had taken a lot of her own, but it was worth it if it saved the man's life. They had already lost so much.

No more unnecessary sacrifices would be made today.

XXXXXXX

Pyrrha and Jaune ran from the tower, with the knight carrying the still-weakened Alfred over his shoulder. Once they were outside, Jaune set the twin down, prodding hurriedly at his Scroll. Alfred did not voice a complaint or even seem to notice he had been set on the dirt. He merely gazed at the sky with glazed blue eyes, unnaturally quiet. Pyrrha's stomach twisted uneasily at the sight.

"I have Glynda's number in here somewhere." Jaune said before she could act on her feelings. "Come on, where is it…"

As he frantically searched, Pyrrha looked back at the tower, watching for Cinder. Alfred just continued to stare at nothing, a slightly pained look on his face. The champion wanted to comfort him but the words were stuck in her throat. She could not even force herself to touch his shaking shoulder, driven by the fear that contact might make him worse. Or maybe it was something else that kept her away.

After a couple seconds of failure, Jaune gave a small oath and pocketed his Scroll. "I can't find it." He spat. "We'll have to go look for them."

A distant roar alerted them and Pyrrha identified the noise as that of flames. Alfred flinched violently, gaze snapping towards the tower, and his already pale skin turned ashen. Realization struck and Pyrrha's heart leapt into her throat as Jaune went bone-white.

"But… Ozpin…" he said faintly, disbelief clear in his voice.

"There's no time." Pyrrha said sharply. "Take Alfred and go."

Jaune's eyes widened as he understood her plan. He shook his head fiercely. "No way. You  _can't_  fight her. She's too strong for us. We need to get Alfred out of here." He looked around frantically. "There has to be a car or an airship or…" He caught sight of a few abandoned lockers. "There!"

The knight grabbed Alfred and carried him to a locker. He set the confused twin inside and Alfred finally reacted. He gave a low mumble of protest, moving sluggishly but was apparently too weak to get out on his own. Whatever energy he had used to protect them in the vault had been spent, leaving him horrifically vulnerable.

_He can't defend himself_ , Pyrrha realized, horrified.

"We can launch these into the city." Jaune explained. "It's not the most dignified exit but it'll give us a head start ahead of Cinder."

The roaring was growing steadily louder. Cinder was coming. They needed to get away, fast. Except, Cinder could fly. Even if they launched themselves into the city, she could probably follow. She  _would_  follow. She wanted whatever power was in Alfred and would stop at nothing to get it. And Alfred was helpless. He could not protect himself.

_"Protect him with your life."_

Pyrrha knew what she had to do.

Jaune yanked another locker door open. "You take this one. I'll take the last one and activate it with my Scroll. It shouldn't be—"

Pyrrha grabbed his face and kissed him. Their warm lips touched and time slowed to a crawl, everything in the world fading away and leaving only the two of them. Pyrrha wanted to stay like this forever, together with him, but she knew she could not stay. She pulled away, one hand cupped on his cheek, and took in his kind blue eyes one last time.

"I'm sorry." Pyrrha whispered.

She shoved him into the other locker, slamming the door shut with her Semblance. His scream to stop tore at her heart but she stayed resolute, deafening herself to his cries. She ignored his pleas and pressed the correct buttons, stepping back without another word, and Jaune was flown away. Taking a shallow breath Pyrrha did the same to the silent Alfred's locker and watched it fly off.

She did not say goodbye. Saying goodbye implied they would never see each other again, and Pyrrha refused to believe that outcome would be the case. She may not know all the stakes but knew what she had to do. Cinder was after Alfred. She was responsible for the attack on Vale. She was a threat to the peace and the world. She had to be stopped.

And so, for her Kingdom and her friends, Pyrrha would fight.

She turned back to the tower and went to face her destiny.

XXXXXXX

_Ring ring ring!_

The sound of his Scroll going off made Canada jump a foot into the air, tripping over his own feet. The Deathstalker he had been fighting saw his distraction and lunged, and it was only thanks to his quick reflexes that he avoided getting stabbed by its tail.

The nation waited for the scorpion-like creature to jab at him again and dodged, making it stick its stinger into the ground. Quickly, he sliced it off, making the creature screech and stagger. Prussia took the opportunity to get past its pincers and stab it in the mouth, slaying it. The deed done, Canada took a breather and answered his still-ringing Scroll.

"Hello?"

" _Matthew! You have to save her!_ "

Canada flinched as Jaune's panicked voice came through the Scroll, holding it away from his ear.

"Jaune? What? Save who? What are you talking about?" Canada asked rapidly. Prussia wandered over to listen in.

The knight's next words made his heart sink. " _It's Pyrrha! She's gone to fight Cinder at the tower. Al and I were with her but she shot us into the city because Cinder's after him and now she's facing that woman alone. You're the closest to the tower. You have to help her!_ "

"You're with Alfred? Is he okay?" Canada asked urgently. His stomach dropped. "Wait,  _Cinder's_  after him?!"

_Oh God, she_ _**knows** _ _._

Even though neither he nor Mantle had witnessed it firsthand, it did not take a genius to figure out Cinder was the one responsible for the previous Vale's condition. Canada ignored the surge of second-hand guilt for 'his' involvement in how the madwoman found the previous Vale, focusing on Jaune.

"We… got separated." The knight sounded dangerously close to tears. "The lockers sent us to different parts of the city. Please, I'll look for him but you have to save Pyrrha.  _Please_."

"I…"

Canada could not decide. Pyrrha was in danger. But America was too. Cinder was fighting Pyrrha but Cinder was after his brother and wanted him dead. If he went to Pyrrha, America would be in a Grimm-infested city, alone. If he went after America, Pyrrha could die and Cinder would be after him as soon as the obstacle in her way fell.

Pyrrha or America?

His friend or his brother?

Save the life of a human he barely knew or seek the nation their enemy sought for unknown purposes?

Prussia gave him no answers, merely stood at his side and scanned their surroundings. Red eyes silently told Canada that it would be his decision. There was no time to delay. He had to choose  _now_. He had to choose which person to help, and risk losing the other. The pressure of the situation left Canada breathless and he squeezed his Scroll, barely stopping himself from breaking it in half.

_What would America do?_

Canada knew the answer.

He made his decision.

"We'll help Pyrrha. Find Alfred." he commanded.

Jaune gave a shuddering breath. " _Thank you_."

Right before the line went dead, Canada heard him give an anguished scream.

XXXXXXX

Cinder casually strode out of the tower, unsympathetic to the pain and destruction she had caused even as she passed through the middle of it. Far above, the Grimm Dragon circled the tower, shrieking eerily, and tore a few more chunks from the building. The woman smirked, but ignored it for now. She had something else to deal with before she could finish her plan. It was a small problem, almost inconsequential, but she wanted to take no chances. Still, solving the last-minute complication would be simple.

Alfred F. Jones just needed to die.

His death was not necessary— she already had enough of Vale's Aura to reach the Relic— but the thought of sharing her newfound power  _infuriated_  her. The boy had stolen the power that rightfully belonged to her, and she would retrieve it. Preferably from his cold, dead body.

Cinder had to admit that she was  _upset_  by recent developments. She never thought Atlas would find a way to transfer a nation's Aura to another person. Then again, she had expected to retrieve Vale's full Aura during the initial attack. It did not matter in the end. She would get what she was destined to.

Cinder heard a metallic noise and leaned casually, allowing Pyrrha Nikos' weapon to fly harmlessly past her head. The girl sprang from behind a boulder shield-first, and Cinder blocked her strike with both arms. Pyrrha flipped, summoning her weapons back to her as she stood in a practiced stance, and Cinder's eyes glinted.

"Where is he?" she demanded.

Pyrrha's response was to throw her javelin at her. Cinder dodged it and blasted fire at the girl, who rolled out of the way. She summoned her weapon and pushed against the flames with her shield, dashing in close, and sliced. Cinder caught the weapon and shoved her back with a fire-blast to the gut.

The girl hit some rubble with a grunt but was on her feet in a second. Cinder slammed into her and they grappled, the champion tossing the woman over her shoulder. Cinder landed on her feet and threw another wave of fire, making the grass and flammable rubble burn. Pyrrha kept attempting to get in close, but Cinder had no intention of fighting with weapons. She wanted the pleasure of defeating the 'prodigy' with her new strength.

Cinder gathered her power, sending a blast of fire outward. The force of it sent Pyrrha flying backwards, slamming into the base of the tower. She fell to her knees, winded, and Cinder threw a sword-like slice of flame. The girl rolled, picking up her weapons, and threw her shield through the fire.

Cinder batted it aside but Pyrrha tackled her, forcing her to grasp the champion's xiphos to keep it from slitting her throat. Cinder grimaced, holding onto the blade, but it did not cut through her Aura. She could feel it eating at it, the champion resolutely pushing against her Aura as she fought to end the fight.

The Grimm Dragon screeched, looking Cinder's way as it sensed its ally in trouble, but she refused to rely on it for rescue. She had the power of a nation. She was now more than human. And she would not be defeated by a little  _girl_.

Cinder's eyes glowed green and fire burst from her body, striking Pyrrha like an explosion. The champion bounced off the floor, her weapons sent scattering, and smacked her head on the wall.

Her red Aura flickered and died.

XXXXXXX

Canada sliced a Griffon in half, shooting another as it tried to dive-bomb him. He looked around the Grimm-filled courtyard around the tower, teeth clenching. Prussia impaled another Griffon, scanning the area with angry red eyes.

"Do you see them?" he demanded.

Canada looked to the tower and flinched as the Grimm Dragon circled it again. The monster ignored the nations, focused completely on the man-made structure it despised. It gave an annoyed screech and slammed into the structure, sending the top few floors crashing to the ground. That done, it landed on the building, tearing more and more pieces away. The nation was so caught up in the sight that he barely noticed the flash of orange in the corner of his eye. As fate would have it, he did.

"There!" he shouted, pointing as he ran towards the fight. "We need to hurry!"

Canada could see them now. Pyrrha had thrown her shield but Cinder's arrow went  _around_  it, reforming like glass. The champion screamed as it struck her in the ankle, and Canada's stomach dropped. She was injured. That meant her Aura was gone. He pushed himself faster,  _faster_. He had to make it.

Cinder walked in front of Pyrrha, apathetic and cold, as she spoke words Canada could not hear. She connected her bow, an arrow forming as she drew it back and aimed it at Pyrrha's heart. An anguished scream built in Canada's chest and he flung his hand out in desperation.

"NO!"

Snow and wind burst from his palm, shoving Cinder aside, but the arrow still flew, striking Pyrrha in the shoulder. The champion screamed in pain, but she was  _alive_. Canada dashed to her side as she broke the arrow, clutching at the wound. Yet even with her injury, she smiled, tears of pain or relief in her eyes.

"Mattie." She croaked.

Canada said nothing, keeping an eye on Cinder as she rose to her feet. Amber and violet eyes locked, and both narrowed with loathing. He heard Prussia help Pyrrha to her feet behind him.

"Get her out of here." He commanded.

"No. I'm out of Aura but I can still fight." The red-haired girl claimed.

Her voice was slightly pained, but her tone was firm. She would not allow herself to sit out or be led to safety. Canada did not argue with her. There was no time to.

"Provide support. Only come close if you absolutely have to." He ordered, tone forbidding any arguments.

Prussia released Pyrrha and she fell back a step, shifting into a ready stance with a slight wince. Canada gripped Maple Frost tightly, gaze never breaking from Cinder's. She was the one to break the silence.

"Which one are you?" A sneer crossed her face. "Or did you steal the power like your brother?"

Anger pooled in Canada's stomach, red-hot and burning, but he remained calm. "You're such a hypocrite. You talk about stealing, but you're the one who stole her Aura.  _You_  are nothing more than a lowly  _thief_."

Her eyes burned, both literally and figuratively. "I'm merely taking what was promised to me."

Prussia scoffed, unaware of the meaning behind her words but still unimpressed. "Keep telling yourself that, lady." He shifted his grip on his rifle. "Shall we get started?"

Cinder moved first. She threw a plume of flame at Pyrrha but Canada blocked it with ice, crystallizing the specks of dirt and smoke into projectiles and throwing them at the murderess. Cinder blocked the shards, melting many of them, and rushed in, swiping at white-haired nation parried the strike, attempting to stab her but she hit him at point-blank range, sending him through a wall. Thanks to his Aura, Prussia shook off the blow, getting to his feet.

Canada mentally complimented his past self for awakening Prussia's Aura as he swept Cinder's legs from under her, shooting her twice before being forced to back away to avoid getting burnt. Cinder got up and threw Dust-like glass in his face. Canada's glasses took the brunt of it but some still got into his eyes, blinding him. He moved backwards on instinct and felt a slight breeze as her sword whizzed past his throat.

Prussia reentered the fray with a battle cry and Canada heard the sound of two bodies colliding. He blinked rapidly and his vision cleared to see the red-eyed nation grappling with Cinder, hands locked around hers as they fought over her swords. Cinder ignited and sent Prussia reeling, only his Aura preventing him from getting a sword through the gut.

Pyrrha's shot hit Cinder in the temple and she swayed sideways, off-balance. Canada kicked her away from Prussia, swinging Maple Frost like he was hitting a goal. She retaliated with a fiery blast he barely avoided, his vision temporarily going orange due to the closeness of the flames. A slash nearly cut off his ear and did cut his hair, sending little wisps of blond strands to the ground.

Prussia stabbed at Cinder, unable to break through her Aura, and shot her in the stomach to no avail. She kicked the nation hard and he crumpled to the ground, weapon sliding away with a loud clatter. She twisted, aiming at Pyrrha, and Canada leapt between them, taking the brunt of the flames.

His Aura faltered, beginning to break, but he pushed through the fire, getting closer and closer to his enemy. Through the fire and the burning sensation just starting to grip him, Canada saw amber eyes falter with slight fear.

He was  _glad_. Cinder deserved to know the fear she caused the people of Vale, the nation itself, Mantle, and his brother. She  _deserved_  to know what it was like to face someone she'd never beat. Canada did not know if his anger was Mantle's or his own, but he refused to let Cinder get away with what she had done.

With a roar, Canada broke through the stream of flames, striking Cinder directly in the chest with wind and snow. The murderess soared through the air, crashing through a light pole and into a large piece of fallen stone.

Her Aura wavered and broke.

Canada saw the realization cross her face before it contorted with anger. Cinder screamed in rage, sending out a final defiant blast of fire, and the three fighters were sent sprawling. Canada's vision doubled as his head smacked into the concrete and he lay still, head throbbing and spinning. He pushed himself up, eyes widening as he saw Cinder loom over him, murderous intent glowing in her eyes.

Cinder snarled, weapon raised to slash, and cried out as a bullet struck her in the back, right between her shoulder blades. She collapsed, amber eyes wide with shock, and Canada saw Pyrrha behind her, rifle smoking slightly. The violet-eyed nation rose to his feet, looking down at Cinder, who glared back at him hatefully.

"It's over." Canada said.

" _Never_." She spat.

She lurched to her feet, grasping her blades, and swung for his head. Canada avoided the attack, twisting his body aside, and locked Maple Frost's blade behind her neck. In a swift motion, Canada yanked the hockey stick and removed her head from her shoulders. The execution was quick and brutal but the nation did not want to take any chances. Cinder appeared to be human but looks could be deceiving.

Or they might not be. Cinder's body slumped to the floor, crimson,  _human_  blood pooling gruesomely, and it was only then that Canada allowed himself to breathe. He leapt back when green light burst from the murderess's unmoving frame, but it shot past him, heading into the city. Pyrrha gasped. Canada looked at her pale face questioningly, and he could see the effort it took her to speak.

"Alfred." She whispered.

Understanding struck Canada like a dagger to the heart and he went numb.

XXXXXXX

Through the nauseating haze that had gripped him since the interrupted transfer, America felt it the moment Cinder died. His relief and sense of peace were short-lived, instantaneously slaughtered by his comprehension of what was about to happen. Vale's Aura was coming. And not just the portion Amber had previously possessed.  _All of it._ He had expected to only get a piece of Vale's soul. He had never expected this.

America frantically glanced at the empty, demolished street around him but there was no one nearby. No friends, no allies, not even any enemies. He was  _completely_  alone. As his breath quickened and a chill ran down his spine, Alfred looked up at the shattered moon, trying to deny the hummingbird-like pounding in his chest.

He could feel the power coming.

"My name is America. Alfred F. Jones." He whispered. "My name is America. Alfred F. Jones."

He had to remember. He had to hold tight to who he was.

It was getting closer.

"My name is America. Alfred F. Jones. My name is America. Alfred F. Jones."

He could see the green Aura far above him.

"My name is America. Alfred F. Jones. My name is America. Alfred F. Jones."

Like a homing missile it sought him— and its missing piece— out, shooting downward.

"My name is America. Alfred F—"

Movement caught his eye.

A girl stumbled out of the rubble surrounding a nearby building, her hair in disarray and her clothes torn. She hobbled along, using her umbrella as a cane as she staggered away from the wreckage and towards safety. America did not recognize her or know her, but he reached out to her, desperate for any type of companionship and comfort as he faced his fate.

But a part of him  _did_  know her.

A part of him  _did_  recognize her.

Blue eyes locked with brown-and-pink irises and he called her name.

"Mistr—"

Vale's remaining Aura struck him.

Consciousness fled.

And the last thing America knew was  _pain_.


	22. No Hero in the End

_The Scroll's screen turned on, revealing America's smiling face._

" _Hey Mattie. It's me! Obviously." He gave an awkward laugh. "I just… wanted to record this for you in case… Well. In case I'm not…" His eyes did not quite look at the screen. "…around. I hope you don't accidentally stumble on this message. That'll be hard to explain! Haha..."_

_America cleared his throat, shifting slightly and making the camera bounce. "I, uh— guess I should explain what this is about. I'm Vale. Or… I'm part of Vale. Vale as in the nation's personification. Remnant has_ _**nations** _ _, bro!" For a moment he sounded so excited, but his tone quickly grew somber once more._

" _I don't know if you remember but we went through some stuff and some creepy dudes transferred part of Vale's Aura to me. It was that or let her attackers get it. Vale's a girl by the way. Her name's Amber. Remember that for me, would you?" His voice cracked._

_America rubbed his hand over his face shakily. "This… isn't how I meant for this conversation to go. I'm not making much sense, am I? But I don't want to say too much in case someone bad finds this… I guess I'll just get to the point. They— Ozpin, Qrow, Glynda, and Ironwood— need me to accept the rest of Vale's Aura. But if I do... I m-might not be me anymore."_

_He took a shuddering breath, fear flashing through his expression, but he covered it with a smile. "They haven't done something exactly like this before so they don't know what's going to happen to me. But I have to do it. They say I have a choice but what other choice is there? Let some random human try it and die? Let the power go to Amber's assailant? I can't let that happen. What kind of hero would I be if I did?"_

_His grin faltered. "I'm not sure if I'll emerge from the transfer… as myself. At best, I'll be merged with Vale and I'll be a little… different. At worst…." His voice grew softer, more somber. "I'll lose my identity completely and only Vale will remain. I know what you're thinking. 'How could the Hero lose? He's too strong for that!'"_

_He forced a heroic tone and laugh. It faded pathetically. "But… I'm not oblivious. I can already feel changes from the small bit of Aura I already have. It's not that Vale is stronger than me, but she's… desperate. She doesn't want to die or lose herself any more than I do. I think when the time comes she's going to_ _**fight me** _ _."_

_America's shoulders hunched. "I'm scared, Mattie." He admitted in a whisper. "I could lose everything I am. I could wake up and not be_ _**me** _ _anymore. My body will be alive, but I might be dead. W-Why did this have to happen to me?" His voice shook and he rubbed at his eyes furiously. "Come on, no crying. Heroes don't cry."_

_When America lowered his arm he was smiling again. "I don't want to do this, but no one else can. So I want to prepare for the worst. If I wake up and I'm not… me anymore, please pass these messages onto the others for me, okay? Tell Arthur he was always my brother and I missed him. Tell Kiku he's the best friend I could ever have. Tell Toris— Tolys? Damn it I still always mess that up… Anyway, tell him he's an awesome guy. Tell Francis thanks for all the advice, even if some of it was a little weird. Tell Ivan I did see him as a friend, and Tony I'm sorry I didn't come back a-and—"_

_His teeth clenched and he composed himself. "There's… so much I want to say. But Ozpin is probably getting tired of waiting for me. I hope all of this is for nothing and everything turns out fine but…" He shook himself, looking straight at the camera. "This is your message though, bro. I made it for you, so I should tell you how amazing you are, right?"_

_Another smile came back, so fragile and strained but also warm. "And you are amazing. You're the best, and don't let anyone tell you otherwise. We may have fought sometimes and we definitely got on each other's nerves, but you're my family, my_ _**brother** _ _. Even after everything, we've always had each other's backs. We've always protected each other…"_

_America sniffed, but maintained his grin even as his blue eyes filled with tears. "I hope things work out but if they don't I just want you to know I'm sorry I left. I love you, Mattie."_

The image froze and the screen went black.

Canada let the Scroll slip from his fingers, landing roughly in his lap. He leaned his head against the wall behind him and stared at the ceiling with stinging violet eyes. The nation had no more tears to shed, having spent them all while screaming at Qrow a few days prior.

It had been three weeks since the attack on Vale.

They had yet to find America.

The city was too vast and damaged to do a thorough search, and the school grounds were completely overridden by Grimm. They could not even get close. It did not help that the Grimm Dragon was still circling Beacon, constantly dropping more Grimm, though it only seemed interested in the school for some reason. As each day came up with absolutely nothing, Canada had come to suspect that his brother was no longer in the city. That meant he was either wandering somewhere alone or possibly in enemy hands. Canada could not decide which scenario was worse.

Qrow had finally taken him aside and told him the truth about Vale and what Ozpin and the others had planned a few days ago. Thus came the shouting and crying session. Now Canada was too drained to do much of anything. His last attempt to join the search party had ended with him nearly getting impaled on a measly Beowolf's claws and he had been banned from going again.

So he sat in his and England's guest room at Yang and Ruby's house, and watched Alfred's last message to him over and over. Italy had been sobbing when he had given Canada the Scroll after the attack, tearfully explaining that he had been carrying it the entire time and apologizing for doing so. Canada had been unable to find the will to console him, too caught up in his own shock and grief to even think about anyone else's.

Because  _he_  had killed Cinder.  _He_  had released Vale's Aura from her body.  _He_  had made it go to America.

He might have essentially killed his brother.

That was why Canada refused to speak to anyone, even England and France, so caught up in his guilt and grief he could barely function. He could not believe how badly he had failed. Not only to help his brother, but to even notice something was wrong. How many times had he failed to see how sad and stressed America truly was? How often had he dismissed his brother's attempts to talk to him, falsely believing America was just being his ignorant self? It was almost too much to handle, and Canada could not face people like England to tell them what he had and had not done. There was only one notable exception to his isolation.

Someone tapped on the door. Already knowing who it was, Canada spoke. "Come in."

Ruby entered, dressed in black pajamas and with her left eye bandaged. The blow her enemy had landed on her had taken her eye, but if not for the wrappings one would be unable to tell from Ruby's still-cheerful attitude. The first few days after she had woken had been a mess of shock and confusion, with the girl unable to comprehend what had happened, but she had rapidly regained her optimism and gotten back on her feet.

"Now I get to wear a cool eyepatch!" Ruby had claimed, seemingly unaffected by her ordeal.

Either that, or Canada suspected she was just pretending to be fine to try to get her sister out of her slump. Yang was not dealing with the loss of her arm well. She had fallen into what could only be described as a depression, sitting in her room and being cold and distant to everyone, even Ruby. Canada had a feeling part of her problem was Blake's departure. The Faunus had left without saying goodbye to anyone, inflaming the abandonment issues Yang already possessed.

Weiss was gone too, having been taken back to Atlas by her father. Canada could not blame him, and could only hope the Heiress was okay. Team RWBY was in shambles, yet despite that Taiyang had opened his home to his girls' friend and his family and allies. Canada had not wanted to intrude but could not deny that he preferred being on Patch instead of inside the ruined Vale in shelters with other evacuees.

"Hey Ruby." Canada said.

The girl sat next to him. "Hi. The others should be back again soon. Maybe they'll find something."

She sounded so optimistic. Canada knew better. He nodded anyway. "Maybe."

Ruby shifted, leaning her head on the wall. "So… I was thinking. I want answers."

Canada shot her a confused look. "About what?" he asked cautiously.

Qrow had not told her about the nations, America, or Vale. In fact, even among the nations Canada was still the only one aware that he was Mantle and America was Vale. If the Huntsman had not told them all the truth, Canada certainly was not going to. It may be selfish but he did not want to complicate things further.

More importantly, he did not want to potentially start a war between their worlds.

"About all of this." Ruby gestured vaguely at the air. "The attack on Beacon, Cinder, why she did all this… She was stopped but I bet she wasn't alone."

Canada's thoughts instantly turned to Emerald and Mercury. He suspected they were little more than glorified grunts but one should never underestimate opponents. "What are you saying?"

"Uncle Qrow and I talked about some things. Everything seemed too… too  _big_  to just be Cinder's idea." Ruby commented. "If she was the biggest bad guy, why would she do things herself? The leaders of bad organizations don't do that."

Canada's eyes narrowed in thought. Now that he looked back, Cinder's actions did seem like that of a higher-ranked underling rather than the mastermind. Was a greater threat out there? It was too bad Qrow had left yesterday. Otherwise Canada could demand answers from him.

"So you don't think this is over?" he asked carefully. "You think someone else is pulling the strings?"

She nodded firmly. "Yeah. That's why I want answers."

"Do you know where to find them?" he questioned.

Ruby's reply was instantaneous. "Mistral. Uncle Qrow mentioned it and that's where Cinder said she was from. I don't know if she actually  _was_  but it's a start."

Canada felt like his head had broken the surface of the water he had been drowning in. His mind cleared and he sat up straighter, looking Ruby right in the eye. "When do we leave?"

"As soon as Team JNPR gets here." Ruby said. Her eye looked down and to the left, either sorrowful or ashamed. "Yang… won't come."

Canada was unsurprised. Yang had not taken the loss of her arm well. At all. He had not conversed with the girl at all since coming here, and her door always remained closed, telling others that their presences were not welcome. Only Taiyang was allowed in as far as the twin could tell. Ruby had gone in exactly once and come out looking close to tears.

"I'll talk to Arthur." Canada said. "He'll come with us. The others will too."

The nation was certain about that. The enemy might have America, and if they did, there was a chance of finding them in Mistral. It was the only clue they had, and Canada had to follow it. He had to find his brother and make amends, to help and protect him like he had failed to do before. And if America was not himself anymore…

Canada did not notice when subtle hints of frost gathered on his shoulders and his eyes glowed, making Ruby shiver and lean away.

If America was gone and only Vale remained, he would make those responsible  _pay_.

XXXXXXX

Roman Torchwick tripped over another tree-root, cursing up a storm. It was obvious the criminal was out of his element, preferring concrete to dirt and buildings to trees. He heard Neopolitan snicker as he walked into another tree branch, which promptly smacked him in the face a second time for good measure.

"Why the  _hell_  are we doing this?" he snarled, shoving the branch out of his face and grimacing as it tore at his hair. "I  _hate_  nature!"

"If you want to walk back to Vale, be my guest." Mercury Black snapped. "I, for one, don't want to get killed."

"The Grimm have probably been cleared from the main city by now." Roman growled, flicking dirt from his previously-white coat.

"The Grimm aren't the problem and you know it." Mercury snapped. "Let me remind you of our situation again since you seem to have forgotten the  _only_  reason I'm sticking with you two: Cinder may be dead but we're not in the clear."

"So what? We're running to hide in Kuchinashi because a ghost is after us?" Roman hissed. "The fire bitch is dead. We're free to go."

Mercury glared at him. "You really think that  _Cinder_  was the sole orchestrator of all that? News flash: She's not at the top of the totem pole, not by a long shot, and if you think the others are going to leave us alone, you're sorely mistaken."

Roman ground his teeth audibly. "Fine. We have to run to survive. Got it." His voice dripped with loathing. "So why do we have the dead weight?"

He gestured at the person Mercury was carrying. During the attack, the two men had stumbled upon each other and Neo, who was dragging Alfred F. Jones's unconscious body around Vale. Rather than leave him as Grimm chow, the girl had been adamant about taking the teen with them. Roman did not understand it, but when Neo showed a typed message to Mercury on her Scroll— deleting it before the orange-haired man could see it— the assassin had been all for carrying the comatose teen.

The criminal loathed the idea that he was being kept out of the loop, but learning too much had been a consistent cause of problems for him as of late so he was content to remain ignorant for now. Though he did have to wonder how the hell the kid was still alive after three weeks with little food, while traveling in the woods, while in a  _coma_.

"He's our leverage if we run into trouble." Mercury explained shortly. "If the Huntsmen catch up to us, he's a hostage. If our dear  _associates_  catch up to us, we can pretend we were bringing him to their allies in Mistral."

"How devious of you." Roman said, almost approvingly. "That's why I like working with you better than the street rat."

None of them knew what had happened to Emerald. She and Mercury had separated during the attack and the assassin had not been bothered to find her once he found out Cinder was dead. Roman honestly did not give a damn if she was alive or dead or off running on her own somewhere. It was not his problem. All he cared about was looking out for Number One— with Neo as a cautious Number Two on that list.

And if that meant lugging around a dead weight through the forests of Anima while trying to get to Kuchinashi and its criminal underground where they could disappear and recuperate, so be it. A part of Roman hoped the teen stayed unconscious, to be honest. He did not want to deal with another hero-type who would be a thorn in his side instead of being a good little hostage.

Almost like his thoughts had jinxed them, Mercury swore. "He's waking up."

The assassin set Jones down and stepped back. The three criminals leaned over the teen, hands on their weapons as they waited with bated breath. He stirred, cringing slightly like he was in pain, and slowly lifted his eyelids.

His right eye was blue.

His left eye was green.

Roman saw Neo grin viciously.

_What the hell?_

Jones's mismatched eyes flicked from person to person, no recognition on his face. That was good. If he did not know Roman was a criminal, it just might make things easier. Except he had gone to school with Mercury, had he not? Shouldn't he remember him…?

Roman's eyes widened and he glanced at Neo, who smirked back knowingly. The criminal finally understood. She  _knew_  the teen would wake with amnesia. Comprehension clicked and he had to withhold his own victorious smirk. Roman was almost proud of her plan and deception.

Jones finally found his voice. "W-Who are you?" He glanced around nervously. "W-Where am I?"

Mercury laughed. "Funny, Al. You can stop pretending."

The look Jones gave him was  _pathetic_ , filled with bewilderment and fear. Roman watched the smile slide from Mercury's face, and if he did not know any better, never would have spotted the fakeness of his reactions.

"Al, seriously. You can stop." Mercury said shakily.

Give the assassin an award. He sounded genuinely hurt. Jones looked distraught about hurting his feelings, hands twitching towards the poor  _sad_  teen before he withdrew them, pressing them defensively against his chest.

"I'm not… Please…" Blue and green eyes locked on Roman, fearful and desperate and oh so wonderfully unaware. "I don't r-remember  _anything_. Who am I?"

Roman made sure to smile gently, while internally he smirked like a cat with a mouse in its claws. "Your name is Alfred. And you're our  _friend_."

XXXXXXX

Salem was not happy.

Not happy at all.

She sat at the head of the table, hands folded neatly in her lap, and let her red gaze move from person to person. Hazel, Watts, and Tyrian were all present, but Cinder's seat was noticeably empty. She could see her followers were not grieving for their lost teammate.

Watts was openly dismissive and annoyed with Cinder's failure. Hazel kept his emotions and thoughts off his face and to himself. Tyrian was his usually giggly self, though he could see his Goddess's ire and glanced at her with a warped version of sympathy, more sorrowful for her grief than for the loss itself. Salem felt a rush of anger at the thought but kept it contained.

"You all know what has happened at Beacon." She said clearly. "Young Cinder succeeded in taking the school and killing dear Ozpin, but lost the power of Vale and her life in the process."

Watts scoffed. "What a pitiful display. To be taken down by two teenagers and a no-name fool… How disgraceful."

Salem stared at him stonily until he dipped his head, not pleased with his comments about their fallen member.

Watts changed his tune. "This is indeed a great victory, but it has also put us behind schedule. The Relic is in Beacon and the Kingdom of Vale has been dealt a devastating blow, but we lost the national personification's Aura."

"What of the other Kingdoms?" Hazel asked in his deep voice. "Surely one of them could be of better use to us?"

"Menagerie may have sided with us but he is not one of the Four Great Kingdoms. We cannot use him to reach the Relic in Beacon, or any of the Relics for that matter." Watts said dismissively.

"I have located and identified the Kingdom of Atlas, my Lady." Tyrian interjected eagerly. "She's so predictable and easy to track! It's hardly fun." He drooped, twitching irritably. "…but Mistral and Vacuo still elude me."

He sounded so heartbroken that he had failed his Goddess in the slightest way. Salem could not care less.

"They will be found." Salem said firmly. "But Vale was always the strongest, even when compared to Atlas. That is why dear Ozpin chose to stay there." Her lips curled in slight distaste. "We  _need_  Vale to ensure our victory."

"Should I start hunting for the reincarnation?" Tyrian asked eagerly, not caring that said reincarnation would be barely three weeks old at this time.

Salem shook her head. "There will not be a reincarnation. I have learned that Ironwood has been quite…  _unethical_  as of late. He transferred part of Vale's Aura to a boy, and with Cinder's death, the rest of the Aura has gone to him."

Watts's eyebrows rose. "That's unprecedented. They must have been truly desperate to attempt such a thing. How disappointing."

And hypocritical. Salem was no stranger to the shady decisions Ozpin made in the name of the greater good of humanity. It was satisfying to know that the man had finally sacrificed his own life— for  _nothing_ — after sacrificing so many others in his war. But the fool did not matter anymore. Ozpin was dead. He could no longer interfere in her plans.

Vale, on the other hand…

"Tyrian."

The scorpion Faunus looked at her with excited yellow eyes. "Yes, my Lady?"

"Mistral can wait. Find Vale…" Salem ordered. "And bring him to me."

Tyrian beamed, a sadistic smile stretching across his face. "As you wish, my Goddess."

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The first chapter of The Shattered Soul will be out Monday. :) Since the notes is being a butt, I'm going to try to post part of the FAQ answers here and part in a comment. Please scan through them. Let's see if this works.
> 
> What gave you the idea for this story?
> 
> I watched Hetalia, saw the personifications, and got the idea of Remnant having nations too. I didn't want to use OCs though so I thought about using canon characters, and thought "What if Amber was a nation instead of a Maiden?" From there, more and more questions and ideas came ("How would America and Canada get to Remnant?" "How would Remnant nations work when compared to Earth nations?" "What other Earth nations would get involved?") and this story came to be.
> 
> Why is America Vale and Canada Mantle? Why those nations of Remnant?
> 
> I chose Canada to be Mantle because Mantle has been forgotten by the other Kingdoms. The city is no longer a 'real' Kingdom, and has pretty much been left to rot. To the people involved in the transfer, Mantle was expendable, and they saw Canada as the expendable twin because he was 'weaker' than America. In the prequel (which I still can't post because reasons), I'll go into this in more detail. As for America… Once I figured out the Amber-is-Vale plot, I knew he had to become Vale because he's a hero (or at least has a hero complex). Once he found out what happened to Amber, he wouldn't let himself do anything other than decide to help and save people, but the stress of the possible consequences of becoming Vale (losing his memories/identity) would drag him down much like it did Pyrrha in canon. Perhaps even more so because he puts literal millions of people at risk while saving millions of others no matter what he chose. And— as you can see from this chapter— he did indeed lose his memory. Though I'll admit part of my reason for doing that is because I wish they'd used that plot with Pyrrha in canon. It would have been so interesting!
> 
> What are America/Vale's powers and what are Canada/Mantle's?
> 
> America/Vale can manifest and control wind, lightning, fire, and rain, with limited control over snow/ice (He needs to manifest ice around something like pine needles or leaves). Alfred prefers using wind, Amber preferred using lightning, and Cinder preferred using fire. Canada/Mantle can manifest and control ice, snow, temperature (can only make things colder), and wind. As for America and Canada's own Semblances… Wait and see.
> 
> Since there are no Maidens, is Ozpin still the Wizard?
> 
> Yes.
> 
> Does Matthew still represent Canada?
> 
> Yes. He is the representative of both Canada and Mantle. Because Mantle was naturally dying when the transfer occurred, there were few side-effects for Canada. He got Mantle's memories, people, Aura, and Semblance, but that's it. For Canada, it's more like pulling information/power from a databank than having another soul. They're practically merged with only slight things from Mantle influencing Canada. Or maybe a more accurate description is that Mantle was absorbed by Canada and Mantle was the one to lose his identity. There is no risk of Mantle's personality/soul erasing Canada's because Mantle was too weak to try. America and Vale on the other hand… You'll see.
> 
> Who are the other Remnant nations?
> 
> As you saw, America is now Vale, Canada is Mantle, and Ciel is Atlas. I'm not about to tell you the others though I do know their identities. Just know that all of the nations are canon characters from RWBY. (Except the previous Mantle but he's kinda dead so…)
> 
> Why didn't England and the others take America home after he was injured? 
> 
> I'll go into detail about this in-story somewhere at a later time, but I might as well answer here because it's not exactly a major spoiler. Basically, unconscious/comatose people cannot safely travel through the portals. This is because if their subconscious desires want them to go somewhere other than their destination (aka America's desire to stay on Remnant) they'll either get ripped out of the portal and land somewhere random or get torn to pieces. Like I said, this will be explained at a later date. The explanation just didn't fit in this story.
> 
> Why did England ask Yang to go with him? 
> 
> So she wasn't left with Canada.
> 
> Why did you bring England, France, etc. to Remnant and not (insert character here)? 
> 
> Because I have use for them while I did not have uses for (insert character here). ;)
> 
> (to be continued in a comment... hopefully).


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